The Rarest Kind
by Demonatron
Summary: He was beautiful, the mech that was young and old at the same time. He was so different than anything she'd ever seen, a complete mystery, and she was desperate to unravel him. 'The Hidden' Sequel.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

"YESSSS! Backlash! Bro! Where are you!? You're NOT going to believe this!"

Backlash paused, red optics narrowed and focused on the tech he was working on. He was in the process of reprogramming it after a bad malfunction. It required a great deal of attention, considering that the technology was unstable at best. One prod in the wrong place could fry the whole thing completely.

He didn't need all the noise. He didn't need the insistent pulling on his spark through the sibling bond. He needed to focus, or else he'd have to rebuild the entire thing, and that would take _hours. _Time was never an issue for him. There was plenty of it between patrolling on the moon and running general maintenance over the ship. He just wasn't up to it this time.

With a soft vent of irritation, Backlash blocked every thing out, forcing his processor to think only of repairing the tech on his table. Whatever his older brother was so excited about could wait, at least for another few minutes.

Unfortunately, Flashback found him before those last few minutes were up. Sliding into the room, Flashback pounded his fist on the door frame and called, "Hey! What the slag are you doing?! Didn't you hear me?!"

"Trying to work," Backlash said quietly, hoping against reason that the older mech would just forget he was here and walk away. Flashback didn't. Feet pounded into his work room, two hands slapped down on his shoulders and shook him.

Backlash tensed, visor brightening. He dropped the tech on the table just as it spit angrily, tiny arcs of electricity dancing across the circuitry. _Fried. _Backlash ground his dentals, irritation becoming clear in his voice when he said, "_What, _Flashback?"

"Oops," Flashback muttered, dropping his hands from Backlash's shoulders when he saw the damaged technology. "Weren't working too hard on that, were you?"

"It only took up three quarters of my day," Backlash said tonelessly.

"Oh, well it'll give you something to do tomorrow, right?"

Backlash shuttered his hidden optics. "What is it that you wanted to tell me, brother."

"Right. Guess _what_!"

"What."

"You know how Sundance went down to earth to talk to the humans-"

"And became stranded in the ice with the sparklings?"

"Yeah, yeah. But we're past that now. Grimlock brought 'em to base and they made it to the conference. And get _this. _You know that guy, the human that likes Sundance? I don't remember his name, but he got everyone together and they talked it over and they're going to let her come back."

Backlash stilled, processor cycling through his brothers news. Flashback was still going, "Pits only took them like forty something years, but they're letting her go home! You know what that means, 'Lash?! We can _all _go back to earth! _Dude, _we can go home!"

"When did they decide this?" Backlash asked, looking up at his brother. He let the walls down around his spark enough to reach out to his sister. He had to stretch across a massive distance to reach her on earth, but she responded. She was exhausted, and still sore from her return to earth, but she was happy. _Overjoyed. _And through her, he could feel that her sparklings were in a similar state because of it. She pulled away from what she was doing long enough to tug on his spark and send him a wave of affection.

"Like today." Flashback was so excited he was almost bouncing in place, electric blue optics wide and bright. "Start packing, 'Lash! Mom and dad are working on the space bridge now. When it's up, we're leaving!"

Backlash studied his brother, feeling the irritation seep out of him at the mech's happiness. Flashback had been waiting to hear this as long as Sundance had. Like the rest of their family, he had ties to earth. He had old friends that he missed every day they spent on the moon. This was the happiest Backlash had seen his brother in months, and it was almost contagious. But the logic part of his processor kept him from feeling the same way.

The moon was still home to a few burrowers, a handful of mechs and femmes that had been driven underground by the war where the slowly lost their processors. Someone needed to remain and watch them, and guard the earth from space. Someone had to stay behind.

Flashback blinked when Backlash didn't say any thing. He started towards him, "Whats wrong with you, mech? Didn't you hear me? We're going _home_. No ones exiled anymore. Don't...don't you want to go back?"

Backlash looked at him, meeting his optics. "I heard you."

"...But you're not happy." Flashback said slowly. He prodded at Backlash's spark, pushing at the walls around it. "Why? I mean, earth is home. We've been kicked out of our own damn home for years, and we can finally go back."

"Earth is home," Backlash confirmed, "its _your_ home."

Flashback stared at him.

"This," Backlash tapped his fingers on his work table, "this ship, the moon. This is my home."

"...What?"

"My earliest memories are here. This is where I grew up, where I learned how to gain and lose and fight. No matter where I go, my roots will always be here."

"Fragging pits...You're going to stay, aren't you?" Flashback said abruptly. Backlash was silent. Flashback vented loudly, dragging his hands down his face tiredly. "Fuck, mech! Really?!"

"I wouldn't be able to settle on Earth," Backlash tried, "its not..." He struggled for a word, well aware of the anger and confusion building in his brother's spark.

"Its not _what_? Cold or dark or miserable enough for you?" Flashback snapped, "Backlash! You're _not _seriously doing this. We're a family! We can't just up and leave you on this dead rock all alone!"

Backlash pushed back from the table and stood, straightening to his full height. He looked down at Flashback, who squared up as well. "Forget I said anything. Go to earth." He turned to leave. His shift for patrolling as coming up, and Backlash would welcome the distraction.

Flashback reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder, "No! Not without you."

"I can handle it." Backlash argued, pulling free to walk out of the room. Flashback was right on his heels.

"So what? We get our home back but I lose my brother? Is that how it works? Thats _not _going to happen!"

"You're not losing anyone." Backlash said, stepping out into the hallway. He started towards the exit.

"Really? Because thats what it feels like! You know mom and dad will never go for this! We wouldn't let Sundance sit on this stupid rock by herself, we won't let you do it either!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Backlash was becoming irritated again, tension edging his tone, "don't waste your chance of being happy with your friends for me."

"I want _you _to be happy!" Flashback's voice grew louder in reaction, echoing in the halls of the old decepticon ship.

"And the only place I've ever been that way was _here_," Backlash stopped and turned on his brother, glaring at him from behind his visor, "I'm not like you or Sundance, Flashback. I don't have...'old friends' that I miss on earth. Everyone that I've known and cared about was here on the moon."

Flashback had stumbled back, but now he moved forward again to squint at him. "What about Hotshot? He's your friend."

"Yes, but I can converse with him easily enough using the ship's control room." Backlash countered. He vented softly, "you keep telling me to be happy. Everyone does. Staying here is my only chance at it."

"I don't believe one word of that bull shit." Flashback glared, "you can't _possibly _be happy if you're alone on some pit-spawned rock thats stuck circling the same damn place over and over again."

"Its the only thing we haven't tried now, isn't it? So how can you be so sure?" Backlash looked away when he sensed someone approaching. He couldn't hear the footsteps, which meant that it was either his mother or Paradox. When he couldn't spot the femme right away, he knew it was the latter.

The white femme stepped out into sight, pale optics focusing on them and softening. She stood straight-backed, tall and lithe with skeletal-shaped white armor. Paradox was the oldest of those living on the moon, and she still moved in complete silence. She said, making Flashback jump wildly in surprise, "Something wrong?"

"WHAT THE-Paradox!" Flashback whirled to focus on her, optics wide. He vented, "Pits, femme! Make some noise next time!"

"I'm sorry," She said, though she didn't sound like it. She looked back and forth between them, "I can hear you two shouting each other from across the ship."

"Thats because one-mech-wolf-pack over here wants to stay on the moon," Flashback huffed, "he doesn't want to go to earth."

"Is that really such a horrible thing?"

"Well, no, but it doesn't matter. We're a family. We _need _to stay together." Flashback went back to glaring at Backlash, "thats what this whole things been about since the beginning."

"Its his choice, Flashback."

"What is with you two?" Flashback threw his hands up in the air. "You're _not _staying here by yourself-Hey! Where do you think you're going?!"

Backlash was walking again. He answered, "On patrol."

When Backlash returned from patrol, his family was gathered in the control room. The main screen was lit up, displaying a live image from the autobot base on earth. Optimus was there, with Jazz and Prowl and Hotshot in the back ground. When he stepped inside, everyone turned to him.

"My apologies for being late," He said, approaching his family.

"Don't apologize," His mother said, "you were out patrolling." She raised an arm to his back when he came to stand beside her, turning back towards the autobots on the screen.

_"The space bridge has been repaired?" _Optimus asked, giving a subtle nod towards Backlash in greeting.

"Yes," Backlash's father answered, "we finished repairs an hour ago. It's up and running again, and ready for warping."

_"When will you leave for base?"_

"Not for a while longer. Theres things we need to attend to here before we leave the moon." Jolt vented softly, "and decisions that need to be made."

Prowl spoke up next, _"Regarding the burrowers you mentioned earlier."_

Hotshot blinked, _"You mean theres more of those things?!"_

"Unfortunately," Backlash said, "there really is no way to estimate how many burrowers there really are, just like we can't estimate how many decepticons are left in space. Even if there wasn't this handful on the moon, theres a possibility that more could eventually land here."

Optimus' attention shifted to him. He asked, _"I thought those on the moon had all come down to earth to join Shockwave."_

"Most. A few stayed here. We don't know why, but they weren't compelled to follow the majority to earth." Backlash explained.

Prowl said, _"Have you had any problems with them?"_

"No," Flashback shook his head, crossing his arms, "they kinda stick to themselves underground. We only see them every once and a while. They never come up to us or the ship." He hesitated, looking at Backlash. "But I guess...that could change."

"Simply judging by their previous behavior," Paradox reasoned from his mother's other side, "its possible, even _likely _that they may try to come down to earth."

"It is." Backlash said.

Flashback vented, "Really? What are you two? Teaming up or something? Slagging..."

"_What _are you going on about now, son?" Their father said, sending him a look.

Before Flashback could answer, Backlash cut in, "Someone needs to stay here and watch them. It wouldn't hurt to utilize the moon's position to keep watch over the earth, as well."

A tense quiet fell over his family. Both of his creators stared at him. Flashback fidgeted in the corner, crossing his arms with a scowl on his face. Paradox remained still, studying him. It was Hotshot who replied first, _"I thought you were all coming back? I mean, who would stay?"_

"I'll stay." Backlash met his creators' optics. He could already feel the protests and argument coming through their bonds. "It won't kill me to stay here."

"Why?" His mother asked quietly.

"We're not going to just _leave _you-" His father said.

"You're _not _just 'leaving' me, and I'm suited for this more than anyone else here is. If I stay here, I'll be able to keep the space bridge operational. Thats an almost instant transport if you ever want to come back, or if I need to return to earth. I can run the ship on my own. Theres not enough burrowers to really present a threat right now."

_"So, what? You're not coming back?_" Hotshot leaned closer to the screen, giving him a funny look. _"I thought earth was your home, mech."_

"Theirs, maybe yours, but not mine." Backlash paused, wondering how many times he'd have to repeat this speech before they let it go. "I belong on the moon. Its where I was raised, and I know it better than anyone else."

"You're serious about this." Jolt said, an odd note to his voice. Backlash looked at his father, seeing something like confusion or sadness in his expression. "You honestly want to stay." Backlash felt his father prod at his spark. He let the walls down so his father could reach his spark.

"You'd be alone," Backlash's mother said quietly. "No one would be here to help if something happened."

"It'll be alright. I just finished updating the ship's security a few days ago."

"What about patrolling? What if you're attacked while you're out?" Jolt pushed.

Backlash answered calmly, "I never leave the ship without medical supplies."

"And if someone lands while you're here? Decepticon or otherwise."

"Then you'll be the first to know."

Jolt straightened, clearly not liking the idea. "I...suppose we could use the space bridge to ship supplies..."

"I don't like it," Flashback muttered, "this sucks. First Sundance gets exiled, so we all leave the earth...stay stranded on some pit-spawned, frozen rock for years. Finally we get a chance to go home, and the whole family isn't even going."

"It's not going to hurt anyone to go through a little separation," Backlash dead-panned, frowning slightly at his brother, "Its not like I'm going on a wild adventure across the galaxy or anything."

_"Backlash makes good points, all of them."_ Prowl pushed them back on topic, _"I understand __what his reasons are, and I believe him. If theres anyone who could do this with the absolute minimum of problems, it would be him."_

Hotshot vented from the autobot end of the conference, _"Yeah, I guess..."_

"Even if this is just temporary, it works for the time being." Paradox added.

"It _will_ be temporary." Jolt said forcefully, "if this is what you want, Backlash, then..."

"You're going to call us _every_ morning and _every_ night," Demona said, pulling on Backlash's spark to emphasize her words, "the first one you miss, and we'll be on a ship back up here so fast your head will spin."

Backlash pulled back at his mother's spark, "I will."

Flashback huffed in the corner but didn't say anything else. Optimus and the autobots looked over them before changing subjects to finish the conference. Backlash stood back quietly, deep in thought over how he was going to manage this.

* * *

**FIRST CHAPTER ASKLDFJASDFKLAJSF**

**Decided to upload this one first because I haven't been able to stop working on it since I finished _'The Hidden'. _Its really flowing, and I feel like I've got a good connection with all of the characters so far. So, if anyone's up for a good Backlash fix, here it is...**

**Also, I realize that some new readers are starting on this story. This is a sequel. Actually, its the sixth story in the series. So if you get confused with the characters, please go back and read some of the previous installments. **

**Much love to you all! Thank you so much for reading. **

**Backlash and his family and the story belongs to me. Transformers does not.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Hot steam and thick smoke filled the interior of the small ship. Alarms and 'malfunction' warnings blared on the screen. Pale electricity arced across the keys of the key board. The cockpit glass was shattered.

Yellow optics flickered online. Blinking slowly, she took time to run a thorough diagnostic of her systems. Her processor cycled slowly, trying to work out just what exactly had happened. She noted the obvious; she'd crash-landed. She wasn't sure where, or why, but the first clear thought to cross her processor was, _Pits, that fragging hurt. _The next was, _What did I lose in the crash?_

Panic settled in her spark and she forced herself to get up before her systems even finished booting up. Staggering on weak legs, she managed to straighten herself as much as she could in the broken ship. Her optics brightened, and she turned to limp out of the cock pit and down the short hall that took her to her trophy wall. She cursed violently under her breath when she came to the end of the hallway and saw that the entire tail of the ship had been torn from it's body.

Her hard earned trophies and rare items were gone. So was most of her supplies, and any chance she may have had of taking off again. The precious cargo she'd been flying to a 'client' was gone as well. Lockdown was _not _going to be happy about that. He might just offline her this time.

"This looks about right," She muttered bitterly, smacking her fist against the ragged edge of the giant hole. "You know, 'cause its not like I spent my entire life collecting or that I have a posse of bounty hunters on my aft. Fragging pit-spawned, ridiculous, slagging..." She vented angrily, kicking through debris. She started to search for _anything _left that may be useful, stashing whatever she found in her subspace or in the numerous pockets and holsters in her purple and yellow armor.

Her search took time, and within a few hours she was half way across the ship. Her list of 'useful items' was made up of a few basic medical kits and some cartridges for her rifle. A couple cubes of energon here or there that had somehow remained untouched in all of this, and an ornate dagger she'd lifted off some sword master in a different galaxy.

There was no sign of any of her prized rare weapons she'd spent her life collecting, and there was no sign of Lockdown's shipment.

She was doomed.

Throwing her hands up in the air, she abandoned her search to stomp back towards the cock pit. She sat down in front of the controls, eyeing them warily for a moment. They were smoking, and the smell of burnt circuitry was stinking up the whole ship. After debating for a long minute, she decided _not _to test her luck by touching the keys. She'd already lost her collection and the aft-end of the ship. She didn't need to completely fry whatever was left or possibly herself.

So, heaving another vent, she stood up again and started back down the hall. This time, when she stopped at the edge of her ship, she looked out at her surroundings. The surface of the rock she'd landed on was pocketed with small craters and jagged rings. A layer of pale dust so thick it was still raised in thick clouds around her ship blanketed it. Barren. Cold. Pale. Dark.

"Charming," She said, narrowing her optics.

She wasn't a stranger to cold, dark places. She'd bounced from one rock to another, and most of them looked similar to or just like this. She hopped down after scanning the horizon, and started to drag herself around the ship to search for any thing that may have landed outside. The gravity was different on this moon, so it wasn't as stressful on her aching joints to move about. She was thankful for that. It would also mean that fighting would be easier, too.

After poking around outside, she gave up and started to climb back up into her ship. It was then that she felt a shift in the air. Her battle routines cycled on. Before she could really process what she was sensing, she swung her rifle up and jammed a fresh cartridge into it. Spinning on her toe plates, she faced whatever it was that had crept up behind her. She blinked widely when she caught sight of another femme, of all things.

She was odd looking, thin and sickly with round, wildly bright optics. Her armor was covered in dust and grime. She was down low, on all fours with serrated dentals bare. As she watched, the strange femme hissed sharply in warning.

"Where did _you _come from?" She whispered, keeping her weapon pointed at the femme and a finger on the trigger. She tensed when another, a mech, slipped out of the shadows. He was in a similar state. Then a _third _came crawling into sight. "This isn't good," She told herself.

The first femme screeched, the sound loud and shrill. She winced in reaction, pulling the trigger. The first shell sliced through the air, but the femme ducked and rolled out of the way. Suddenly she was behind the her, and the two mechs were closing in just as quickly.

Twisting, she brought the butt of her rifle down towards the one behind her, and missed _again. _She _rarely_ missed. Irritated now, she managed to strike one of the mechs. The other slid past her side and lashed out at her legs. She jumped out of the way, landing a little heavily on her injured leg. "My day just couldn't _get _any worse," She snapped, forcing herself to move to avoid being shredded to pieces by their long claws.

"I would have to agree with you," A new voice said softly. Going rigid, she spun towards the source.

"How many of you crack heads are there?!" She asked, focusing on yet _another _mech as he came out of the shadows. She stopped, holding her breath when she saw that he wasn't like the others. This one was ridiculously tall, lithe with dull black armor. It was scarred, and dusty, but still in tact. He stood straight-backed, and he moved with a liquid-smooth grace that outdid the other three. There was a long, elegant black blade in each hand. A red visor glowed faintly over his optics. He was different. This one wasn't anything like the others.

The three crazy ones backed up when they heard him, hissing and howling at him. They gathered together, forming a tight pack of malformed frames and wide, insane optics. She blinked, shocked by their sudden change in behavior. Looking back and forth between them, she assessed the situation until he came to stand a short distance away from her, body facing the odd trio. They crowded closer together before turning to race back to where ever they came from. _They're...afraid of him?_

She blinked again. _What just happened? _She started to ask, but the black mech was already moving away from her. "Hey!" She shouted, following, "where do you think you're going?!"

"Back to my ship." The answer was toneless, his voice still so soft. It was odd and disturbing at the same time. She'd never heard such a quiet mech before, especially one that seemed to frighten everything around him. Usually any mech she spoke to was loud and rough sounding, and always angry.

"How did you do that?" She pushed, trotting up to walk beside him. "All you did was look at them and they freaked out and ran." She looked up at his face, noting the red visor. "Are you a decepticon?" He didn't act like one. He hadn't tried to pin her down or anything yet, which was what almost every decepticon she'd dealt with in the past had done. She sincerely hoped that he wasn't one.

She herself didn't care for either faction. She had never wanted any part in the war, and had made her living by stealing rare weapons and items to sell to the highest bidder. Still, there was a difference between both sides. Autobots could be intimidating as well, but she'd always had the worst experiences with the other faction.

"No." He said.

"Then what are you? An autobot?" She tried to think of any she'd heard of or possibly met that looked like this mech. Red optics or visors were uncommon in the ranks, but not unheard of.

"Not quite."

"So you're a neutral."

"Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters!" She snapped, glaring at him. "If you're a 'con, I'm not going to just follow you to your ship! Bad things happen to femmes that are stupid enough to even deal with them. I'm looking out for myself here."

"You're going to follow me any way, aren't you?"

"Got a problem with it?" She shifted her rifle, keeping it in her hands in case he decided to turn on her. She didn't really think he would, but she couldn't be sure. Decepticons were called decepticons for a reason. Before he could answer, she asked him something else. "And what are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" He countered.

She vented, "None of your business."

"Considering that I guard this moon," He said, stopping to look down at her, "it is my business."

She stared at him. "You guard a _moon_? This moon? Why."

"Why are you here." His expression was as emotionless as his voice, and it bothered her. Holding her breath, she squinted up at the mech, trying to figure him out. She relied on her ability to judge mechs heavily in her line of business. She had trained herself to automatically take notice of even the _smallest _shift in their tone or posture. Being aware of their mood was crucial, especially when it meant getting the slag away before they attacked. But this mech...she wasn't picking up any thing about his mood, or his intentions, and that was frightening.

"What, do you own this place or something? Do you have your name stamped across the moon? Because I didn't see it when I crashed in a burning heap of chaos!" She motioned wildly with one arm after shifting her rifle to the other, "why do you need to know? I'm here, get over it."

He was unaffected by her sarcasm, "I do not own the moon, I simply watch over it. I could feel the tremors of your landing from the other side, and I came here to see who you were. I need to know because you are standing on autobot territory, and no decepticons are welcome."

"Oh yeah?" She said, putting her hand on her hip. "What will you do to me if I _am _a decepticon? Tie me up and trap me in your ship?" She rolled her optics, "been there, done that."

"Are you a decepticon?"

"Well you're 'not quite' an autobot, so why is it important? Why would you guard autobot territory if you're not one of them?"

"You're not a decepticon," He said, making her tense.

"How do you know."

"No decepticon would pointlessly run her mouth so much without throwing an insult or a threat in every few breaths." His attention seemed to shift else where. He turned silently on one foot and started walking again. She blinked at his back, shocked.

"Did...is that your way of telling me to shut up?" She pursued, "thats just _rude._"

"You keep dodging my question. Answer it or your injuries will be left to rust."

"What are you saying? That you'll repair me if I tell you why I'm here?"

"Perhaps if you can say it in less than ten words."

"Pits, you _are _rude." She holstered her rifle, finally deciding that this mech, however unreadable he was, wasn't an immediate threat to her. She raised a hand and counted off on her fingers, "I'm here because I took a wrong turn...ten words is a ridiculous limit, you know that? I need at least thirty."

"So you are here purely by accident."

"Sorta. I was supposed to land on earth to do business with someone there, but I ended up slamming nose-first into this rock instead." She paused, cringing when she realized she let her reasons for even being in this part of the galaxy slip out. Luckily, he didn't push.

"You are not here to move against the autobots?"

"I don't have any reason to," She shrugged, relieved when he didn't ask her who she was supposed to be doing business with. "I'm a neutral, or something like it. The only cause I fight for is my own."

His head turned ever so slightly at that, like he was listening more intently to her now. She noticed it, and kept speaking. "So are you going to patch me up?"

"Do you always talk like this?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm a femme, and we do tend to run our vocal processors a little bit more than mechs. Processors, too."

"I know a few femmes that don't."

"Well they're not normal."

"If you're what 'normality' is," He said, a hint of dry amusement creeping into his voice, "our kind is in more trouble than I thought."

She glared at his back, optics focusing on strong shoulder plating. They were covered in scars, thick and shallow, but they fit his frame well...along with the rest of his back plating, just as marred by old injuries, and his silver-plated back struts and his remarkably _smooth_-Shaking herself, she huffed and said, "You're avoiding my question."

"Yes, I'll repair your damage."

"And feed me?" She pressed hopefully.

"Yes."

"And give me a safe berth to recharge in?"

"Don't push your luck, femme."

She laughed, "Hah! Well, _mech, _I'd say I've pretty much run out of it anyway. I only crashed my ship on this Primus-fragging rock and lost all of my supplies, weapons, and the whole back end of my ship. Not to mention that the first time I stepped outside I was attacked by three psychotic _things_. What were those, anyway?"

"Burrowers."

She started to push him for actual details, but stopped when an old decepticon war ship came into view. Optics widening, she took in the vessel. "_This _is your ship?"

"Yes."

"Are you _sure _you're not a decepticon?" She questioned, "because theres not a whole lot of autobots that would make themselves comfortable in a war ship like this."

"I'm sure." The door opened, hissing out steam as it did. "This ship was here when I first arrived on the moon, no decepticons in sight. I've lived in it since."

"By yourself?"

"Recently, yes."

She followed him inside, stepping a little closer to him. She didn't have any good experiences in decepticon ships, being inside one always made her uneasy. Her optics wandered over the jagged interior of the ship before returning to the mech. Lights flickered on as they walked under them, casting highlights across his damaged armor. She could see his scars more clearly now, and she studied them.

He took her down a wide hall then into a large room with a couple of medical berths inside. She paused in the doorway, looking around as he moved about what she guessed was the med bay. "You have experience with repairs, right? You're not some aft who thinks he can just automatically do everything?"

"Are you worried?"

"Yes..." She eyed him when he motioned towards a berth. She walked towards it slowly, like she was approaching an enemy. "you're not going to cut my spark out or anything...right?"

"If I wanted to offline you, don't you think that I'd have done it outside and away from my ship?"

She paused, thinking it over, then hopped up to the berth. She wiggled around to face him, "Okay, you made your point." She watched as he curved a hand around her calf and lifted her leg enough to assess the damage to her knee joint. Seconds passed into minutes. He worked without saying a word, moving with quick, practiced hands. It wasn't lost on her that here, in this place and in this position, he could get the jump on her and easily over power her.

She nearly jumped out of her armor when he dead-panned, "You can relax. I have no ideas of causing you harm."

She realized then that she had been rigid. Slowing her intakes, she forced herself to relax. "Sorry. Bad memories of ships like this."

He didn't respond. Her optics focused on his arms, then moved up to his shoulders and back down across his chest. She searched for some type of badge that stated what faction he belonged to. True to his word, there wasn't one. But the _scars. _He was covered in them, from helm to toe plates. She'd seen mechs that were this marred before, but the more she looked at him, the more she began to realize that this mech was young. He had clearly been sparked after the war began, like her. Her voice softened, "Whats your designation?"

"Backlash."

_Backlash. _She repeated the name over and over again in her processor, "Can I ask you something, Backlash?"

"If I tell you no, will you still ask?"

She grinned at him. "Of course."

He straightened, "You'll recover within a few days. I've repaired the joint, but the stress on your frame will leave you sore for a while."

"Thank you," Her optics followed him when he moved away, "how long can I stay? I'm not going any where, obviously. My ship is totaled." He started towards the door. She slipped down and trotted after him, unable to stop herself from raking her optics down his frame again. The scars were interesting. If he was young, he shouldn't have so many, and the majority of them were _bad. _Deep, wide scars that must have come from horrible wounds. Who had caused these, and how did he survive them?

She didn't think about it long, filing the thoughts away to sift through later. Now she was watching the way how he moved. Despite all the damage his frame had apparently gone through, his motion was seamless, and smooth as liquid. His footsteps were silent, and she found herself wondering if he _ever _made a sound when he wasn't talking. Her optics returned to his back, dropping to his lower spinal plating in the hollow above his aft. Very little scarring there, most of the black and gray plating was smooth outside of three nasty claw marks. She winced, automatically thinking of the 'burrowers' that had attacked her outside her ship.

"No longer than necessary," He answered, leading her into the control room. Again, she pulled her attention away from him to take in their surroundings. The room was simple enough, standard monitors mounted on the wall and a ton of controls and keys beneath them. The room was bare of any thing except a perfectly round shield that Backlash was lifting off the floor.

She zeroed in on it, processor cycling quickly. Perfectly smooth, transformation seams just barely visible. It was made of a strange alloy, one she didn't quite recognize. A light dash of energy flickered across it's surface when the mech touched it, then again when he raised it to his back where his armor parted to hold it in place.

She nearly glitched when she searched through her records of rare weapons, and the first thing that popped up was a minicon artifact known as the Sky Boom shield. All she could do was gawk at him as he crossed the room and stopped at the controls, punching in some of the keys.

A _real minicon artifact. _Those weren't just rare, there was only _three_ known in existence, and each one was different. She'd spent most of her life dreaming about stumbling across one, but that was all it was. A dream. She'd been so sure that she'd _never _see one, and here this odd, scarred mech was, simply carrying it around in his armor like it was an extension of himself.

_Gottahaveitgottahaveitgottahaveit._ Her fingers twitched, processor already gauging how far the space was between them and estimating how quickly she could get across the room and nail him with her rifle. She wouldn't offline him, simply because he hadn't offlined her and she actually liked the mech, but she would knock him out and take the artifact. Then she'd find a hole on this rock to crawl into until she could call someone to come get her.

His back was turned to her now, a huge mistake on his part. She had a clear shot. She only needed to close the distance between them, give him a good smack in the helm, and yank that shield off of his back. Then she'd run. It would be _easy_, much easier than stealing from a real decepticon. At least _they _didn't just turn their backs on her.

_Young and stupid, _she thought, tensing her body to attack. She tested her knee, putting all of her weight on that leg. It was sore, but it felt a lot better now. Creeping forward a step, she felt her battle routines kick on and crouched down to run. A deep, inaudible intake, and she lunged.

It happened fast.

She was facing him a full three strides before the world tilted around her and she found herself flat on the floor, face down. The weight pinning her down was _heavy, _something firmly gripping her arm in a tight twist that would dislocate it if she tried to pull free. She blinked slowly, processor spinning and spark pulsating with fear. _What just happened?! _She felt the weight shift a little on her back, the mech's soft voice filling the air above her. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

_No..._Her optics were wide, processor struggling and choking in it's attempt to work this out. She'd been caught, instantly. But _how_? The mech hadn't even been looking at her. How in Primus' name had he known that she was attacking? How did he just _flip _her like that? She was fast, 'fleet-footed' as her sister put it, and very few could really catch her if they wanted. She was known for being quick, but she hadn't even seen the mech move. Fear, cold and gripping, flooded her frame. She whispered, not even trying to hide it in her voice, "Who are you."

"The same mech that saved your life and repaired your damage." There was a hint of bitterness in his voice. "Why did you attack."

"Maybe I wasn't attacking you, huh? What if I was going to run up behind you and give you a giant surprise hug for saving me." Her processor raced, trying to find a way out of this situation. She worked through her position in a breath, taking in the weight on her back, the hand twisting her arm, and how _soft _the mech's voice was. He was perched or sitting on her back, pinning her body down near her waist to keep her from throwing him with a shift of her hips. The hand holding her arm was firm without being painful, keeping it bent at such a tight angle against her back that it was forcing her to lean upwards and use her other to keep balance.

She was trapped, and this mech had managed to block any and every chance she had of escaping like this. He said, "I highly doubt that."

"Can't blame a femme for trying," She vented sharply. The strain on her frame was beginning to hurt. "Let me up, please?" She tried to squirm, and the grip on her wrist tightened in reaction, just a tiny bit. "I was just testing you."

"Testing me for _what._"

"...for...something." _Smooth, _she told herself. "I won't do it again." She shuttered her optics when he didn't move or respond. Her fear spread, thoughts turning towards old, painful memories of when something like this had happened before. Holding her breath, she waited for the beating, for the armor being ripped from her body, and the harsh taking of her frame. Maybe if she was quiet, maybe if she was still, he'd lose interest faster than the mechs before him. She did just that, becoming stone-still. She even slowed her intakes, attempting to make them quieter. Her body slowly relaxed, as much as it could, becoming submissive.

Her intakes hitched when he touched her for the first time, finger tips on the back of her helm. Against her will, her frame seized up in reaction. She waited for him to strike her, or slam her head down on the ground to weaken her. Instead, he reached under a plate on her helm and found a trigger. She inhaled sharply. The switch would put her into a medical stasis, and leave her completely helpless. She opened her mouth to beg him _not _to push it, to tell him that she would do _anything _as long as he left her aware. He pressed it before she could. She went slack, systems shutting down as the ship darkened around her.

Her spark convulsed wildly with fear before she sank into stasis.

* * *

**:) Introducing the new character, who will probably become the bane of Backlash's existence before this is all over with. **

**Thank you for reviewing the first chapter, and for those who favorited or added _'The Rarest Kind' _to their watch!**

**Love to you all, I hope you enjoyed. **

**Backlash, the femme, and the story belongs to me. Transformers does not.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Backlash stood up, leaving the odd femme on the floor. His optics scanned over her slack frame. Her armor was sleek, and fit well to her frame. Purple and yellow, with touches of liquid silver beneath. She had more of an autobot shape, though she was tall for a femme, perhaps even his sister's height. As she'd mentioned before, there was no real sign of who she was allied with. It wasn't that strange, he himself fought against the decepticons but still didn't quite feel like he belonged in the autobot ranks.

He studied her briefly, now that she wasn't running her mouth. He'd never heard a femme say so many pointless things in such a short time before. It was extremely tiring, and irritating. Now that she wasn't talking, or attacking him, he could assess the situation.

She was the first new arrival on the moon or even earth in several years. She had managed to avoid telling him _why _she was here, though she had said that she had some sort of business with someone already stationed on earth. He wasn't concerned with that as much as he was with the fact she had tried to attack him. After he had hunted her ship down, deterred the burrowers from attacking, brought her unto the ship, and then _repaired _her. Backlash wasn't the most social of mechs, but he knew such actions deserved some amount of trust or respect.

He thought through recent events carefully, searching for whatever had triggered the attempted attack. Crouching down in front of the femme, he pulled a pair of stasis cuffs from his subspace. Carrying them was a habit he'd developed when first dealing with the burrowers, and it was a difficult one to break. He closed them around her wrists, then lifted her to his shoulder to take her down to the ship's brig.

Backlash placed her inside the closest open cell. He backed out and activated the locking sequence, then turned and walked back out as the barred door slid shut. He returned to the control room, punching in the rest of the code to accessing a comm. channel with the autobot base. As usual, it wasn't long before the request was answered and Red Alert's image filled the screen. He gave Backlash a small smile, _"Backlash. You missed your call this morning-Demona was ready to take a ship up to the moon."_

"I was busy," Backlash said. He paused, red optics softening behind his visor. He pulled at his mother's spark in apology, somehow reaching her through the vast distance between them. She tugged back, her worry and relief touching his spark. "There was a crash landing on the moon two hours and twenty-five minutes ago, a ship of unknown origin."

The smile vanished. Red Alert leaned closer, _"A ship landed on the moon?"_

"Yes."

_"Did the pilot survive?"_

"Unfortunately." Backlash said tonelessly, "The ship was a small vessel, built for one or two. The pilot was a femme. She claims neutrality, and appears to have no ties to either faction."

_"A femme? And shes a neutral?"_

Backlash gave a slight nod. "She was damaged in the crash, but I've repaired most of it."

_"Where is she now?"_

"In the brig."

Red Alert's expression became confused. _"Why is she in the brig, Backlash?"_

"Because she just tried to attack me. I don't know why. She seemed like she was...calm for the most part other than her incessant talking."

The autobot became even more confused. _"Why would she attack you if you spent time and supplies repairing her?"_

"I don't know. She followed me through the ship without problem until we came into the control room. I turned my back on her and she attacked. I was going to ask you to run a search through your records. Shes tall, Sundance's height maybe. Purple and yellow armor, yellow optics. Autobot-style armor. She was carrying a rifle."

Red Alert's focus shifted elsewhere, probably to a different screen at the base. Backlash heard the tap of fingers over keys. _"Sounds familiar, at least. I'm not sure if we'll have any thing on her. Neutrals tend to stay hidden, so we don't have many listed in our database."_

Backlash waited, falling quiet. Again, he tried to think of a reason for the attack. She had followed him willingly, even before she knew that he would repair her. He'd felt her gaze on him several times, but he'd never sensed any hostility until-

Backlash raised a hand to the shield on his back. He rarely used it in battle, there hadn't been a reason to. He usually kept it on him anyway. The extra weight had been something like a comfort since he'd started living alone on the moon. Something about the shield seemed in tune to his frame, and whenever he did venture out without it, like today, he was a little uneasy. It was why he had picked it up first before going to the computer, and that was exactly what he'd been doing when he'd felt the shift in the femme's posture.

The Sky Boom shield was a _rare _piece of work. There was only three like it in existence, and none of the three were exactly the same. That made the shield a one-of-a-kind weapon, but only those that knew the minicon history thoroughly could recognize it. Which meant that she wasn't an ordinary neutral.

_"The only neutrals we have listed is a small family of nobles that haven't been seen or heard from in years...and you." _Red Alert focused on him again.

"Do you have a list of rogues or thieves that have caused the faction grief in the past? Collectors, namely."

_"Yes, actually."_

"Check it."

A few minutes passed before Red Alert paused, optics narrowing. He said, _"Yellow and purple?"_

Backlash nodded again.

_"Shes here. A rare item and weapon collector. She's successfully stolen weapons from some of our highest ranking officers. I thought I recognized the coloring...her designation is Jinx. She usually steals for herself, but makes her living off of being hired for theft. Jazz and Prowl have both had confrontations with her. So have Sideswipe and Drift. Shes a decent warrior, very quick on her feet, and has been a problem for both factions for several years."_

"That explains it," Backlash vented softly.

_"Explains what?"_

"Why she became hostile."

_"You have rare weapons onboard?"_

"One." Backlash looked past Red Alert when he caught sight of more autobots approaching. He greeted, "Prime, Prowl."

_"Backlash." _Optimus returned, _"what do you have to report today?"_

"Something different than the usual." Backlash then explained to him that there was a new arrival on the moon, and how she ended up in the brig on his ship. Recognition passed through Prime's optics when Backlash spoke the femme's designation. He nodded when Backlash finished.

_"Do you need assistance?"_

"No. Every thing is still under control here. Feel free to tell my creators I said so." Backlash crossed his arms over his chest, "shes not an immediate threat, shes not any worse than the burrowers."

_"I trust you, Backlash. If you do need any help, please don't be afraid to ask for it."_

"I won't." Backlash excused himself, "I need to run maintenance on the ship's security."

_"Thank you for your report, youngling."_

"You're welcome." The link was cut a moment later, the screen going blank. Backlash left the control room, carrying on the rest of his 'day' as if the femme had never arrived. He was in his work room, working on his latest piece of tech, when he heard movement below.

A loud banging, like someone was beating on the walls. With a quiet vent, he rose and started back towards the brig. The banging continued until the doors to the brig were sliding open for him. His optics dropped to the femme, sitting on her side facing one of the walls. She'd been smacking her helm against the wall. Hearing him, she stopped and tilted her head back to stare at him with narrowed optics.

"I _hate _brigs." She said sharply.

"Something you should have considered before you tried to attack me." He said, voice emotionless. He caught the shift of her optics, the quick glance at his shoulders like she was looking for the shield. Backlash watched her carefully, "You ask for energon and shelter. I can't give it to you if you're going to spend every waking moment trying to offline me."

"Not offline." She rolled over to her back, glaring up at the ceiling. "I was just going to knock you out and take off."

"With the shield."

Her gaze flickered back towards him. "Yes...but, obviously, that didn't work out too well for me, did it?"

"Obviously."

"Why did you spare me." She asked suddenly, back to staring up at the ceiling. The change in topics was sudden, but Backlash replied anyway.

"Spare you?"

"Why am I still online? Why am I ...still in one piece?" She vented quietly, shuttering her optics. "why didn't you take me when you had me pinned."

Backlash narrowed his optics. "Take you?"

"Its what everyone else has done thats caught me. Why are you any different?"

"I don't find any enjoyment in causing damage. I'm not a decepticon, I won't hurt you unless you manage to hurt me first." She twisted to stare at him, optics bright and round, like she couldn't believe what she was hearing. Backlash kept speaking, "I asked the autobots to run a search on you in their database."

"Oh yeah?" She rolled over to her front, cuffed arms in front of her. Tilting her head at him, she smiled slyly, "and what did they find?"

"Enough. Theres nothing 'rare' or 'collectible' on this ship, so save your energy for someone else."

"'_Nothing'_? That shield you're carrying around would bring enough in a trade to supply me for the rest of my existence." She eyed his shoulders again, "it would get me out of a jam with one of my 'clients', too. Its the rarest weapon I've ever seen, and I _want _it."

"You can't have it. If you know anything about the minicon artifacts, then you know that they sync to a chosen wielder." The shield had just happened to chose him the very moment he first touched it, just as the Star Saber had chosen Hotshot.

"Then I'll unsync it."

"Unlikely."

She vented, "So are you going to feed me or not?"

"I'm debating," He answered, "refueling a thief thats set on stealing from me isn't exactly the most intelligent thing to do."

"Like I could do anything anyway. You had me flat on my face before I even knew what happened. I'm pretty sure you can handle me. How did you do that? You couldn't even see me."

"But I could sense you." Backlash countered.

"How?!"

Ignoring the question, Backlash thought through his next actions. He stood in silence, watching her. He couldn't keep the femme down here, and she _would _need fresh energon after the stress of crash-landing then being dropped into a stasis. She wasn't a serious threat to him, Backlash decided. Most of her attention seemed glued to the shield or himself, though he doubted it would stop her from picking through his supplies when he wasn't looking.

She stilled when he approached, opening the cell. "What are you doing," She asked, tension clear in her voice. She shied away some when he walked towards her, a ghost of real, _old _fear and pain shining in her optics. Backlash remembered what she said to him, and found himself wondering just how many mechs had abused her in the past.

Backlash crouched in front of her, keeping some space between them. He opened his hand and held it out to her, offering but not demanding. She bristled, looking from his hand to his face then back again. Slowly, cautiously, she raised her bound arms and rested them against his palm. He unlocked the cuffs, taking note of the wild disbelief in her gaze as she watched.

Standing up, Backlash placed the stasis cuffs in his subspace and said, "You need energon." She was staring at him again. He started to leave, turning on one heel to walk back through the doors, "Unless you want to stay down here."

She got to her feet quickly and trotted out after him. He could feel the heat of her frame, she was so close, and mentally prepared himself for another attack. She didn't. Instead, she said, still shocked, "You're different than the others."

He didn't say anything in response. Backlash could feel her optics boring into him, like she was trying to see through his armor to his very spark. The walk to the ship's energon store was blissfully quiet. He keyed in the locking code and stepped inside when the door slid open. She was right on his heels. Backlash picked up a standard cube and passed it to her. He lifted one for himself then turned to step back out-

A blade came whistling towards his face. Backlash shifted backwards smoothly, lifting his free hand as he did so to bat her arm away and pin it to the door frame. His fingers closed around her wrist joint, tightening just enough to make her drop the weapon. Dropping his cube of energon, his other hand raised to close around her throat in a clear warning. His optics were narrowed, focused on her. She was stunned, optics wide with a hint of fear, though most of it had been replaced by wonder of all things. "How do you _do _that?" She murmured, "how do you just...know?"

"Because you're not the first femme thats tried to tear me apart from behind," Backlash said tonelessly. He squeezed her arm as unwanted memories filled his thoughts. "You're not very fast, either."

She sputtered, "What?! I am _very _fast, thank you!" She blinked when he pushed her against the wall, trapping her there with the hand he had on her throat cables.

"_Stop _attacking me," He said quietly.

"You're still not going to do anything to me, are you?" She whispered back.

"I will if you don't stop. I've given you no reason to attack."

"I wouldn't really call that one a full blown attack..." She rolled her optics upward in an innocent expression of deep thought, "more like a...test. To see how good you really are."

"Your efforts are pointless."

"Maybe, but they're worth it." She was tense, though she wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as she had been the first time he stopped her from attacking.

"I don't see how."

She tilted her head back, "For one, I'm learning more about you this way. You're a complicated piece of work, Backlash. You're unlike any mech I've ever seen."

Backlash wasn't sure how to respond to that. He released her though, now keeping every sense in tune to her as he retrieved his cube of energon from the floor. Stepping past her and into the hall way, he decided to ignore her words, "I don't know how long you will be required to stay here until you are able to find a transport off the moon. Spare quarters are in the back of the ship. You now know where the energon store is." Hoping that she would take the hint and leave to find something to do, he started back towards his work room. Unfortunately, the femme had other ideas.

Her optics brightened. "You're just giving me the run of the ship? Just like that? What if I take off with your supplies or any other lost treasures you have hidden in here?" She trailed behind him.

"Considering you don't have a safe place to keep them other than your own subspace, I'm not concerned." Backlash responded, irritation beginning to creep into his voice despite his best efforts to remain toneless. She either missed it or didn't care.

"How long have you been here?" She asked, coming to walk beside him this time.

"Do you ever stop talking?" Backlash countered.

She sent him a sharp look, "Whats that supposed to mean?"

Backlash didn't give her an answer, choosing to ignore her for the rest of the walk back to his work room. She kept talking, covering several topics between there and his destination. When they finally reached his work room, she was in the middle of telling him how hard it had been to steal some sword from another collector in a different galaxy. Backlash turned on her then, "Out."

She stopped mid-sentence, bright yellow optics focusing on him. "What?"

"Chose your quarters, refuel," He noted the still full cube in her hands, "and leave me in peace."

"Why." She squinted at him, "what sort of secret are you cooking up in here?" She squared up, putting her hands on her hips. "You've let me follow you around this entire time, and you're just now telling me to take off?" She then proceeded to lean around him to peek inside. "Whats in there?"

Backlash glared down at her for a moment before stepping inside. Before she could follow, he reached out and hit the switch. The door slammed shut between them, causing her to yelp in surprise on the other side. Backlash glanced at the door when he heard her curse quietly then shout, "Fine! I'll just, uh, call someone to come get me or something. Yeah."

Backlash vented in relief when she tromped away. "Pits," He muttered bitterly, raising a hand to his helm when his processor throbbed with pain. The silence of his work space was enough to soothe most of the ache away, and for a moment he just stood there in the peace and quiet. Shaking his head, he started towards his latest project. He didn't know how long the femme was going to be there, but already he could tell that this was going to be a long day.

Forcing her from his thoughts, he sat down and fell into the familiar, old rhythm of reprogramming the tech.

* * *

The ship felt too big without him walking with her.

She fidgeted and clenched her hands into fists, hating the heavy silence and the looming shadows inside the jagged halls. Once, on one of her wild adventures on a foreign planet, she'd been swallowed by a giant serpent. Half organic, half cybertronian. The hall looked a lot like it's insides, the sharp edges that jutted out row after row resembled ribs. She shuddered, remembering how long it had taken her to scrub the monster's guts out of her frame after she busted out.

"Okay, think happy thoughts," She ordered herself. She started putting more weight in her footsteps to make some noise. Silence had always made her uneasy, even though it was crucial when she was in the middle of a job. Quiet meant no distraction. No distraction meant her processor wandered...and when it wandered, it usually led her back to ugly memories she just wanted to forget.

Shaking her head, she gave herself a tour of the ship. She started with poking her head inside of any door that would open for her-there wasn't that many. Most of them were locked, and buzzed in warning when she pushed against them. She didn't test them anymore than that, not willing to set off the ship's security systems. The idea was tempting, though. Maybe she could get the mech to come out of his hole again.

Other than missing the company-she _had _been on her own for a long time now-, she really wanted that shield. She _needed _it. After her crash landing on the moon, it was the only thing she could think of to appease Lockdown enough to let her stay online just a little bit longer. It was one of the rarest weapons known to their kind. Perhaps he would have mercy on her. It was worth a try, since the bounty hunter would come after her aft anyway when he found out that she lost his shipment.

Which brought her attention back to the scarred mech. Her optics narrowed as she cycled through all of her memories of him. He was going to be a problem, she just knew it. The mech was unreadable. The entire time she'd been pestering him, he'd perhaps only shown one emotion, and that had been annoyance. He was ridiculously calm, even when she tried to attack him. Both times he'd effortlessly thwarted her, moving so fast she wasn't even aware until he had her pinned.

He was _good, _whoever he was. A lot more skilled than most of the mechs she found herself fighting, and it was really going to put a kink in her 'grab the shield and run' plan. As she walked, she tried to think of a way to beat him.

Both attacks she'd tried had been from behind. Obviously the mech had experience in such assaults. He'd even said it himself. She'd have to try something else.

Her exploration led her back into the control room. She stopped in the doorway, scanning the room carefully before she stepped fully inside. Just as she did, the computer began to make a loud pinging sound that echoed in the room. She nearly jumped out of her armor, springing back a step as the screen flickered on with a message stamped across it.

Squinting, she realized that it was a comm. link request. Someone was calling the ship. The pinging continued. She crossed the distance to the controls. Eying them, she tried to remember the ones she'd seen the mech push to activate the comm. lines. When she came up blank, she just slapped her hand down and ran it across, lighting up all the keys at once. The computer made an odd choking sound that probably should have worried her, but all of her attention was focused on the screen as it changed and the caller's image filled it.

Another mech, young. Bright blue armor and even brighter optics. He was already talking when the link was made, _"For pits-fragging-sake, what are you doing thats making you so busy you just-" _ The mech froze when he focused on her. Grinning, she raised a hand and wiggled her fingers in greeting.

"Hello," She said.

His blue optics became _wide. _A full three minutes passed before he said, voice high with disbelief,_ "Um, who the fuck are you?!"_

"Thats not very nice. I just answered your call, shouldn't you say hello back instead of cursing?"

_"Okay."_ His optics narrowed, _"Hello, and what the frag are you doing on our ship?!"_

"_'Our' _ship?" She repeated, "I thought this ship belonged to Backlash."

_"How do you know Backlash? And where the pit is he! I'm not going to talk to you-"_

"Hey!" She frowned at him and put a hand on her hip. "Pits, you two should be related! You're just as rude as he is!"

_"I'm his big brother,"_ He hissed, _"we __**are**__ related!"_

She blinked. This time, it was her optics that were wide. "He has a brother?"

_"He's got a whole slaggin' family. Who the hell are you."_

"Thats no way to ask for a femme's designation. Say please, first."

_"I'm going to come through this screen and strangle the-"_ She ignored him, stepping away to lean over the computer and pound her fist on the wall as hard as she could. The blue mech sputtered, _"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!"_

"Calling Backlash," She said with an innocent shrug. She wasn't lying. Banging on the walls in the brig had been the only way to get him to come down. She imagined doing the same here would work just as well.

_"You crazy broad! You're going to damage the-"_ He cut himself off when she hit harder and the paneling on the wall dented inwards. Electricity arced up over the surface.

"Oops." She chirped.

He threw his hands up, _"'Oops'?! Thats all you can say?! You just-"_

They both stopped and looked behind her when the doors hissed open and Backlash came inside. He looked agitated, the toneless mask finally broken into a deep scowl. It was the first real change in him she'd seen, and she stared. "What the pit is going on in here?" He asked.

_"Finally!"_ The mech on the screen vented. He pointed wildly at her, _"where the fuck did you find this chick, 'Lash?! She's fragging psychotic! And where have you been?!"_

"I _was _working," The black mech answered, "I thought I told you to leave me in peace." His visor was on her, but she was still gawking at his face. His scowl turned into a frown, breaking her trance. She shook herself after she realized she'd been openly staring at him.

"He was trying to get a hold of you," She managed to say, motioning towards the mech on the screen. "Backlash, you didn't tell me you had a brother! You two look nothing alike, but you're both really rude so I guess its believable. How come you look like a decepticon and he looks like an autobot?" Then she started to think of their creators. If these two came out so different looking, what in Primus' name did the parents look like?

_"Can I come up there and hit her?"_ The blue mech asked, glaring vehemently at her. _"Please, 'Lash. Just gonna smack her once, really hard."_

Backlash was looking at the wall now, the sparking around the mashed paneling. He said, "Was that necessary?"

"It got you up here, didn't it?" She challenged. She smiled cheekily when he sent her what she imagined was a glare.

"_Is that the femme Red Alert was talking about?!"_

"Yes," Backlash answered, "shes a complete nuisance."

She gasped, "How dare you!"

"You damaged the ship's circuitry," He said after prodding at the dented paneling very lightly.

"I'm not a nuisance!" She pushed, crossing her arms.

_"Yeah you are! You're a big...whatever he said! Go away so I can talk to my brother!" _The blue mech ordered. _"go bug someone else!"_

"Theres no one else to bug! And I _dare _you to call me a nuisance one more time!" She turned towards the screen, yellow optics narrowed into a fierce glare. Her attention was still on Backlash though. The mech watched them for a moment before focusing on the damage in the wall. Seeing an opening, she lunged for him.

The mech easily side stepped out of the way, and down she went. Landing on her face, she vented sharply and snapped, "Stay still, slaggit!"

The mech on the screen was freaking out now. _"Did-did she just try to attack you? Did she REALLY just lunge for you?! You slagging crazy broad! You crazy ass-I'm gonna come up there and beat the hell outta you! You leave my baby brother alone!"_

She popped back up, swinging towards the screen to shout back, "I'm pretty sure the mech can take care of himself! I can't even fragging touch him!"

The other was practically climbing on top of the console like he was literally going to come through the screen at her. _"When I get up there-"_

"You'll WHAT!" She shook a fist at him, "I'd like to see you try something, you big blue berry! You're so fat that when you walk down the street, everyone stops and asks if the sky is falling!"

_"FAT JOKES?! Oh its on now, Buttercup! You're gonna regret the day you were sparked by the time I'm finished with you, you hear me?! Fragging bitch! I'm coming after you!"_

"Thats _enough_!" Backlash said, voice becoming commanding. Silence filled the room. She stilled, staring at him again. He wasn't scowling or frowning this time. That annoying emotionless mask was back in place. "I'm not above dragging you back to the brig," he warned, meeting her optics, "where you'll stay until I can find a way to get you off of my ship."

She tensed at that. Brigs were never a good thing. She watched him carefully now, completely ignoring the raging blue autobot that was on the other side of the comm. line, standing on the computer and shaking the monitor as he shouted and swore at her. Backlash held her gaze easily, completely relaxed despite the situation. "You won't take me back to the brig." She said, voice sounding more confident than she felt.

"I will, and this time I'll leave you there."

Slowly, she stepped back. He said, "Wait outside, and do _not _cause any more damage."

Venting, she obeyed, stalking back out to wait for him. She crossed her arms, turning just in time to see Backlash approach the screen and try to calm his brother down. She eyed him as the doors slid shut between them. Settling beside the door, she thought through every thing that had just happened. For a moment, she'd been close enough to touch the shield...until he stepped away and let her fall.

She seethed at the thought, cursing violently under her breath. She worked her situation over and over again in her thoughts, trying to decide the best course of action that would completely throw the mech off. Something that would shock him so much he'd be unable to react in time, something that would cause a _real _reaction like the dark scowl he'd been wearing when he walked inside.

She waited, and planned.

* * *

**Now we have her name. :)**

**Tell me what you guys thought! **

**Love you all. I hope you enjoyed. **

**Backlash, Jinx, Flashback, and the story belongs to me. Transformers does not.**


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The brig was becoming the one place she knew best on the ship.

Sitting alone in the back, she had her face in the corner. Her yellow optics were closed, so she didn't have to constantly look at her surroundings. Though nothing really horrible had happened here with the mech, she still hated brigs. Too many horrible experiences that had become painful memories. It was always best to just close her optics and try to forget where she was. Instead of wallowing in self-pity like the first few times she'd gotten tossed in here, she was carefully analyzing the day.

It had only been a few days since she'd first followed the odd mech unto the ship, and there hadn't been a moment since that she wasn't scheming the best way possible to knock him out and grab the shield. _Easier said than done. _No matter what she threw at him, the mech _always _caught her. She'd tried everything. Surprise attacks. Head-on attacks. Attacking from above, leaping up from below. She'd spent hours working on strategy. Even the most perfectly planned attacks were useless. Booby traps didn't work, either.

And the entire time, he'd just be wearing that toneless mask, like nothing she ever did or said was affecting him. It was driving her _insane. _He was like a walking stone. She couldn't read him, couldn't anticipate what he was thinking or what he was going to do next. The mech was so closed off he wasn't bothered by anything she did. And it was astounding. How the pits did he _do _that? Was he really so dead to the world that nothing could pull a reaction from him?

She leaned forward until her forehead was resting against the wall. She vented softly when she realized that she was running out of time. She'd was supposed to meet with Lockdown in less than forty-eight hours, and she had nothing. No way to get to earth, no shipment to give him, no weapon to defend herself with, and no chance of surviving if he decided to come after her. She was doomed to suffer a painful, horrible offlining by him, if she didn't get that shield.

Defeating this ridiculous tall, dark, quiet mech was her only chance at survival. She couldn't fail. Not again.

But how? How would she defeat someone that felt nothing? Someone that moved and shifted like the shadows on his ship, silent and deadly and perfectly calm and controlled.

The door opened.

Turning her head slightly, she onlined an optic to peek at her visitor. She'd only been here a few hours. Lately he'd just leave her inside there until he finished doing whatever it was he was doing inside of that room he holed up in all the time. "I'm not done with the time-out corner yet." She said, "I'm still thinking about what I did wrong."

He was there, watching her from behind his red visor. That was another thing that drove her nuts. That stupid visor was always down. She'd never seen the mech's optics, ever. She wondered if she ever would. When he didn't say anything, she vented quietly and turned her face back into the cold alloys of the wall. "What do you want."

* * *

Backlash studied the femme, trying to understand for perhaps the thousandth time just _why _she was still trying to tear his spark out. Even Viral, after so many tries, would give up and slink away. This one didn't. She was on an entirely new level of obsessed. Nothing he said seemed to deter her, no matter how many warnings he gave her or threats he made. His words seemed to go right through her. She'd nod or say something, then try the same slagging thing again the next time he turned his back on her.

After the third time he dropped her into a medical stasis to carry her down here, he stopped using stasis cuffs. He had realized after so many failed assaults that the brig was a place she feared, though not in a way he might have imagined. The femme became still when she was left in her cell, quiet and forcibly calm. It was as if being here was linked to such a deep, traumatizing experience that she just automatically shut down.

She was damaged. He had known this early on, but realizing just why she didn't try to escape like Viral always had seemed to make it more clear. "I'm going on patrol," He said, optics narrowing as she shifted ever so slightly towards him. She was listening. "the ship's security is down for maintenance. You will need to stay here and guard it while I'm gone."

"Why is the security down?"

"Because you damaged it when you were trying to get my attention the other day," He answered, "I've been working on it, but there is still a lot that needs to be done."

"Oops." Her usual response to whenever she was caught doing something she wasn't supposed to be doing. Backlash started towards the cell. She looked up at him when he unlocked the door. She asked, "why are you trusting me with this? Why don't you just skip patrol and stay here to watch it yourself."

"The burrowers grow restless when someone is not seen patrolling. They become brave. I've been absent enough. If they haven't started gathering their forces already, they will soon."

She tilted her head at him, "Absent because of me?"

"For the most part. If they get inside this ship, we will both suffer for it. Watch the ship." He turned to leave. Behind him, the femme scrambled to her feet.

"You're leaving _now_?"

"Yes."

"Uh, be careful?" She started, sounding unsure.

Backlash sent her an odd look, "Be careful? After all the times you've tried to offline me this week?"

She shrugged. "You make me sound so evil. I already told you, I wasn't trying to offline you."

"Just leave me unconscious and steal the shield."

"Yeah, thats pretty much the plan." She moved closer, "how do you know I won't just lock you out of your own ship?"

"For one, you don't know any of the codes. The security system is down, so the door would open to any energon signal."

Her footsteps paused behind him. When she spoke up again, there was a little anxiety in her voice, "So anyone could get in here."

"Yes." He started to step out, but stopped when he sensed her move towards him suddenly. Expecting yet _another _attack, he turned to block her. She raised her arms, palms open, in a sign of surrender.

"Wasn't trying anything, honest." She said, "I was just going to..." She struggled for something to say before lowering her arms, "I'm sorry."

Backlash frowned. He wasn't expecting that. "Why."

"Under any other circumstances, I wouldn't be trying to jump you every time you turned around. I just _really _need that shield."

_Again with the shield. _Backlash narrowed his hidden optics at her, "You don't 'need' it, and you're not getting it."

"This isn't coming out right." She vented, "and you don't understand."

"Don't feel inclined to explain," He said with the smallest hint of sarcasm. "don't leave the ship. If any thing happens, hit the alarm. I'll hear it where ever I am."

She nodded. This time when he tried to leave, she stayed where she was and watched. Backlash pushed the femme from his thoughts, bracing himself for the long few hours ahead.

* * *

"Really, Jinx?" She muttered to herself, watching as the mech vanished in the shadows stretching across the moon's surface. "'I'm sorry'? 'You don't understand'?" Shaking her head, she retreated back inside the ship. She paused in the door way before reaching out to smack the switch. The ramp began to lift with a loud hiss of steam. It was loud enough, hopefully she would hear it if someone _did _sneak inside the ship.

She walked through the ugly hall ways of the decepticon ship, trying her hardest to ignore all of the shadows that were suddenly too big. She ended up, again, inside the control room. She paused in the middle of the room, staring at the controls. She looked up at the paneling on the wall, easily finding the place she'd beaten down. It was half way removed, baring a still-softly sizzling circuit board. Of all places to damage on the wall, it would be her luck to hit the area devoted to channeling energy to the security systems.

Crossing her arms, she tried to decide on the best action to take.

She couldn't _believe _that the mech had let her stay here alone. What if she just up and decided to take off with it? Not that she _knew _how to fly something this massive...or wanted to. She could only imagine what kind of welcome she'd get from the autobots if she came down in a decepticon war ship. Maybe that was why he had done it, because he knew she couldn't do anything with it.

"Slagging confounding, ridiculous mech." She vented. Of course he knew. He always seemed to know these things.

So, even though she was alone and had the ship all to herself, there was still nothing to do beyond what she _had _been doing. Since Backlash wasn't there for her to pester and attack, and since she wasn't currently locked in the brig, she was at a loss for what to do until he returned. It was maddening.

She started towards the controls, the memory of Lockdown creeping back into her processor. Really, the bounty hunter never left her thoughts. He just hung on the edge, hovering. Holding her breath, she reached out for the keys and, one by one, punched in the number to his ship's comm. channel.

There was something she could do while she waited for the mech to get back, and that was trying to save her own hide.

The signal and source would appear foreign to Lockdown's ship. She hoped that he would answer anyway. Her spark squeezed in her chest when he did, his visage filling the screen. She didn't know if it was out of relief or fear, and she didn't have a chance to decide. His optics focused on her, bright and red and _creepy. _She forced down a shudder before it traveled down her frame. They were cold, and cruel, and they lit up like stars when they fell upon her.

_"Jinx." _He greeted, voice low and almost sweet sounding, as if he were speaking to an old friend. _"I wasn't expecting any contact from you for another day."_

Chuckling nervously, she straightened and clasped her hands in front of her. "Lockdown. I'm not interrupting anything, am I...?"

_"Not at all." _He said, giving her a wicked grin. _"does this mean I can expect your shipment early?"_

_ Primus. I'm going to offline. I will offline. _"I..." She paused, clearing her throat as quietly as she could. Her processor cycled hard and fast for a way to tell the mech without immediately sealing her offlining. Her spark filled with fear when his expression shifted from a pleased look to one of growing anger. _PrimusPrimusPrimus. _

_ "Jinx," _He said softly, a dangerous note to his voice now, _"Femme. You're not going to tell me something I don't want to hear."_

"I'm not going to lie to you either," She offered, "I'm not on earth. I crash landed on the moon, lost the tail end of my ship and everything I had. Weapons, supplies, and your cargo."

It took every ounce of her will not to cringe and move away when he leaned closer to the screen. His optics were brighter now, malevolent. _"You lost my shipment."_

"...Yes."

_"Do you know how large the price on your head is right now? How much so many would pay to see your head in a bag?"_

"I couldn't _help _it, Lockdown, something malfunctioned on my ship and I hit the moon so hard it tore every thing to the pits. You _know _how important your orders are, you _know _that I'd do anything I could to please you." Her voice was a strained whisper. She had no doubt that the harsh fear in her spark was clear in her optics as well. "I crossed _galaxies _to get here on time. What happened was out of my control."

_"I don't want to hear excuses. What I want is my shipment, and I want it now."_

"I found something, though, here. This ship that I'm staying in is home to a neutral, and hes welcomed me here as a guest. He has the shield, Lockdown. The Sky Boom shield." She threw every thing out there at once, half way hysterical, "hes just one mech, living by himself here. He keeps the shield on his back, I've seen it."

Something like interest flickered in the mech's optics. He leaned back, straightening. _"The shield."_

"Yes, a _real _minicon artifact. It fits the description in the old histories. Made of a dense, rare alloy that I've never even seen before. The shield _reacted _to the mech when he touched it, like it was alive and aware of him. Perfectly round, blue energy." She stopped, intakes gradually calming as the rage left his face.

_"And its there?"_

"He has it, but yeah. Like I said, its always on his back. He takes it every where."

_"Wise on his part, considering all the collectors and hunters that would come after him for it." _Lockdown considered her for a moment before saying, _"You will get me that shield, Jinx."_

She nodded, relief flooding through her.

_"You take that shield, and I don't care what you have to do to get it. Bring it to me, and maybe, just maybe, I'll let you live for a while longer."_

She vented quietly, "Thank you, Lockdown."

_"The mech. Will he be a problem?"_

"He's a warrior, one of the best I've seen. He's fast, but he's got to have a weakness. Everyone does. I'll get you that shield, or offline trying."

Her response seemed to please him. That wicked smile was back on his white face plates. _"Very good, Jinx. I will give you one more week. Do NOT fail me."_

"I won't." She swore. The line was cut then, the screen going blank. She heaved a heavy vent, frame shaking as she allowed herself to relax. Feeling very much like she'd just dodged a bullet, she left the room and staggered back down the hall way.

As she moved down the hall, she slowly found her footing again as the fear left her. Anxiety took it's place. A week. That was all she had. One slagging week to overcome a mech she couldn't even lay a hand on. How in Primus' name was she supposed to accomplish that? She had to, she didn't have a choice or she'd be hunted and gunned down like every other target Lockdown had taken out.

She paused when she heard a door hiss open to her left, and turned her head to see the open door to the room Backlash liked to hide inside. Optics widening, she gawked at it. This room was always locked if he wasn't inside. She'd spent many hours trying to figure out _why. _Why was it open now? Racking her processor, she remembered the mech's words before he left. Security was down, possibly all of the ship's locking mechanisms because of it.

Lockdown completely forgotten, she started towards it.

The room was dark, even with the artificial lighting flickering on above her as she entered. She ended up having to squint, wondering why the lights were so dim in a place he spent most of his time at. Her optics trailed over the several shelves lining the walls, packed full of sterile bins one would see in a med bay. She knew this room wasn't the med bay, though. She'd seen that room. This one was too dark, anyway.

In the middle of the room was a large work table, a long bench on either side to sit on. On the table was a group of hand-held tools, scattered around what looked like a very complex piece of tech. Her optics brightened. A smile pulled at her lip plates as she lifted it carefully. "So..." She said softly, "you're an inventor."

That would explain why he'd disappear for hours at a time. He was actually doing something in this big ship, not just walking around in circles or chatting it up with the autobots while she was locked up down stairs. She tested the weight of the tech, her smile growing when she realized how heavy it was. It was made of good, solid materials, and a lot of care had obviously gone into making it.

She'd always had a soft spot for mechs that made working things instead of chaos. Mechs that weren't just hardened warriors, but brilliant minds that could create. It was a nice change to see someone that was building instead of breaking.

She set it back on the table, away from the edge so it didn't accidentally tumble off. Her smile faded when her thoughts returned to Lockdown. Placing both hands on the surface, she shuttered her optics. She had no idea of how she was going to do this.

* * *

**Kinda get the feeling that Jinx is the toddler and Backlash is the adult, with the brig acting as the time-out chair or something. :) I wonder how many more times she'll end up in there before this is all over with?**

**Hope you guys enjoyed. Much love to you all. **

**Jinx, Backlash, the burrowers, and the story belongs to me. Transformers does not. **


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Backlash approached the ship. Patrol had taken longer than usual, he'd been right to worry when he left earlier that night. The burrowers _had _gathered, and they'd all ambushed him inside one of the caverns. Backlash was trained to fight them, he'd been doing it since he as in his second frame. Unfortunately, being surrounded on all sides in an enclosed space was something even he couldn't easily overcome.

The burrowers had abandoned the attack after he offlined one of the mechs, scattering into the shadows as fast as they could. Still, he was returning with damage. He was leaking energon, and there was a hitch in his stride. Nothing serious, he'd dealt with far worse. It needed to be taken care of as soon as possible, though, and he needed to get back to the ship. There was no telling what the femme had gotten herself into while he was gone.

The hatch opened, ramp easing down when he stepped into the ship's range. She wasn't in sight. He walked up the ramp, hitting the switch when he stepped out into the hall. It closed again behind him, and he started towards the med bay. He would find her later. Right now he needed to stop the bleeding before his frame went into shock.

He passed his work room, pausing when he noticed that the door was open. Optics narrowed, he turned fully to it in time to see the femme poke her head out. She was smiling cheekily at him, yellow optics bright. "I was wondering when you'd come back!"

He stared. She was in his work space, the one place he could escape her constant attacks and all the noise and chaos she caused. The only place of peace he had left on the ship, the only place he kept all of his work and tech hidden inside...the only things on the ship worth stealing other than energon and the shield. Her optics were raking down his frame when he finally said, voice quiet but with an edge to it, "_What _are you doing in there."

She shrugged. Her smile was dim now, "The door opened for me when I walked past. Just thought I'd get a peek at what you spend all day concocting in your evil laboratory."

"Get out." He ignored the warnings that were beginning to file down the side of his visor. The strain of standing and walking was starting to take its toll on the damaged joints in his leg where he'd been slashed by one of the burrowers.

She made a face, "Don't be like that, Backlash. I didn't touch _anything_, I promise."

Backlash didn't believe her. He walked towards her, and she moved to press against the door frame so he could pass. Scanning his optics over the room, he walked a slow lap around the table. Every thing appeared to be in place, except the tech he'd been working on before he left. It was closer to the middle of the table. He looked at the femme. She blinked innocently at him. "What."

"Don't touch my work," Backlash said, turning away from her to scan the contents of all the bins on the shelves, reading the statistics listed along side the warnings in his visor. They were all fine, the weight of their contents matching up with what they had been before. All except one. Without a word, he walked back to her and held out his hand.

She looked down at his hand, then at his face, and back down again. "You're leaking energon like a faucet, mech. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to hold your hand, but shouldn't you be tending to your-"

"_Femme._"

Rolling her optics dramatically, she reached inside her subspace and pulled out a piece of cloaking tech he'd built years ago. Backlash weighed it in his hand before placing it on the table. He ordered, "Out."

Throwing her arms up in exasperation, she stomped out like a sparkling throwing a tantrum. Backlash followed her, managing to keep his stride smooth enough despite the stabbing pain lancing through his leg. He really should be in the med bay right now. If it hadn't been for her making herself at home in his personal space, he would be. Hidden optics focused on her as the medical warnings raced down his visor, increasing in speed and urgency. He noted them, but most of his thoughts were focused on her. He wondered what _else _she had helped herself to while she was alone.

"I made a call." She said suddenly, motioning with one yellow-plated hand. "to my...friend I'm supposed to meet on earth. Just thought I'd let you know."

That wasn't what he was expecting, but it was good news. "And?" He prompted tonelessly.

"I won't be able to leave for another week."

Backlash forced down a vent of irritated relief. He had a date now. A week meant seven days from today, and that wasn't very long...unless she would be pestering him like she had been. Then it would feel like a life time. He really wasn't looking forward to it. She was still talking, moving her hands as she did even though she wasn't facing him. "I think he can arrange a place to stay and a transport."

So she hadn't completely wasted her time going through his things.

"He was...really angry when I told him I wouldn't be there on time, but he understands." There was something odd in her voice, it sounded a lot like fear. Backlash focused on her, seeing that there was some tension in her shoulders as well. Her armor was almost clamped down on her frame defensively. "After I explained things to him, he was alright with it."

Backlash considered telling her about the space bridge on the moon. It was still operational, though it had been put in a sort of stasis to keep any burrowers from stumbling through it. If any thing, it would get her the pit off his ship and out of his space sooner. The space bridge was restricted, though. He wasn't supposed to just open it whenever he wanted, and there was a lot of conferencing and planning that would have to go into it before he could get the authorization from the autobots.

Then again, the space bridge was something he discovered, and he had never claimed the faction. Their rules didn't apply to him.

"So how did patrol go?" Her voice was light again. She turned briefly to smile at him, "other than coming back all beat to the pits."

"The burrowers were restless. They attacked while I was in the caverns."

She frowned. "The caverns? Theres caverns here?"

"Yes."

"Thats...creepy." She shuddered, "Pits, I hate caves."

Backlash looked at her again, watching as she turned into a different hall. A hint of dry amusement crept into his expression. When she glanced back at him again, she almost stopped walking. Curious, she asked, "What?" Her optics flickered across his face.

"Nothing," He said.

"That doesn't look like nothing." She turned on him, placing her hands on her hips. Tilting her head, she studied him. Then, very softly, "What are you thinking?"

"The caverns made me what I am. I know them so well because I spent most of my life inside of them." He explained tonelessly. She blinked.

"You're not afraid of them? At all?"

"No."

She gave him a look of wild disbelief. "You're crazy. Anyone that doesn't fear complete darkness is just...whacked."

"You don't fear the darkness," He said, "you fear what hides within it." He started to walk again, stepping past her. The med bay wasn't far. He could see the door now. She was still for several steps before he heard her follow.

"What do you fear?" She asked.

"If I told you that, you might use the knowledge against me." He dead-panned as he entered the sterile room. Gathering a handful of medical supplies, he settled against one of the berths and started to seal split lines. He tensed slightly when she came to sit close beside him, on the side with less injuries. Half expecting her to attack, he allowed his defensive routines to cycle on. She didn't try any thing, sitting still for the first time outside of the brig. She was quiet, too, and he was beginning to worry. This was not like the femme. She was always moving, always talking. Silence and stillness was something she loved to disrupt, constantly.

The quiet didn't last. She asked, "Do you always take care of your own injuries?"

"Usually." Backlash answered simply, "whenever I'm conscious enough to."

Her yellow optics brightened, raising to his face. He ignored her gaze, trying to focus all of his attention on the damage and not on the realization that she was almost leaning on him. She pushed, "Conscious enough? You end up in stasis a lot, don't you?"

"Not for a while." Backlash moved to a different place on his armor.

"Do the...burrowers damage you a lot?"

"No." _Not since Viral. _Backlash suppressed a soft vent. He tensed further when he felt her finger tips touch one of the worst of his scars, one that was still new and still very sensitive. It was wide and jagged, covering his side where Shockwave had shot him through while he was trying to save a few autobots.

"Fusion cannon," She said quietly, tracing the welds. Her hand shifted to his arm, "energon blade."

Backlash was almost rigid, dentals ground together. He wasn't accustomed to contact. He hadn't had any outside of his family since he was a sparkling, and even they weren't as, what Flashback called, 'touchy-feely'. He wasn't used to being touched other than being attacked, and he didn't like it. She paused briefly over long, narrow claw marks on his shoulder armor. "Claws?" She sounded unsure, moving to a different piece of armor with similar scars.

"Burrowers." Backlash managed to force out. He stopped patching himself up when she brushed over the armor covering the shield. He said, "What are you doing."

"Trying to figure you out." She answered just as quietly. "Trying to understand."

Backlash pushed her away, sliding her across the table so they weren't touching any more. The motion was painfully similar to when he had pushed away Viral in the grand canyon. When she had been recovering her memories, when she was becoming the autobot she was before she lost her processor.

The femme stared at him, "Did I say something?"

Backlash didn't respond. He was tending to the damage in his leg now. Afterwards he could refuel, and go back to doing whatever he should be doing right now. He paused when she came right back, scooting across the berth until he was within range again. She reached out to touch his arm. Backlash warned, "Don't."

"Why not?"

* * *

And there it was.

Her hand hovered over his armor, processor working rapidly to analyze this new discovery and plan the most effective way of using it to her advantage. The mech didn't like to be touched, the sudden tension in his frame something he couldn't quite control or hide beneath a calm face. She was baffled by it, how much her fingers trailing over his scars had bothered him. Of all the things that could have been his weak point, it was _contact. _

Touch. Closeness.

Things that anyone else wouldn't have even thought about.

She'd spent hours trying to figure out some way to get under his armor, to break that steady calm he always had. The time spent facing the wall in the brig, coming up with ridiculous, complex ideas when all she had to do was just lean over and touch him.

He wasn't answering her, his focus on repairing the damage in his knee. That detached, emotionless mask was back in place. Bracing herself for a possible attack, she decided to test her theory. Her palm landed on his arm, sliding upwards to curve over his shoulder in a gesture that was almost _too _friendly. The rough texture of his scars tickled her palm, the jagged points of his armor pricked her fingers. She was distracted by the way he felt briefly, as she had only a second ago when she touched the massive scar on his side. His armor was cool and dusty. Such a complex mix of things, feeling nothing like anyone else she'd ever touched before, 'con or 'bot.

His reaction was instant. In another one of those processor-blowing moves, he was suddenly in front of her with his hand held firmly against her throat, keeping her well out of reach of his frame. His visor was brighter, a fierce blood red, and it cast a hellish light over his damaged armor. His dentals were bared in a snarl, and she realized for the first time that they were serrated. Suddenly he looked exactly like a decepticon, one bent on causing slaughter. She held her breath, then smiled at him. Despite her position, she felt triumph flaring up in her spark. _Thats what I thought. _

It was the biggest reaction she'd seen in him, and she reveled in the fact that _she _had caused it. He repeated, voice soft but low with a threatening note, "_What _are you doing?"

"Just testing you," She told him. She wasn't lying. It had been a test, to see if she could really get to him. Now she knew she could, and the real planning began.

"Don't touch," He ordered, "you will stay in my sight. You will not speak. You will not come near me. You will sit still, and wait for me to finish dealing with my injuries."

She held his hidden gaze, once again wondering what he looked like underneath that stupid visor. She didn't speak at first, raising a hand to curve around his wrist instead. She kept her touch gentle, non-threatening, but his frame still filled with tension. Processor coming up with another theory, she tried something else. "Why can't I touch?" Her smile turned sly, "you _are _a gorgeous mech, Backlash."

More tension, and just a hint of confusion in his expression. She could have laughed right then, but grinned hugely instead when he dropped his hand from her throat and moved away. He settled on a different medical berth in the corner, a good distance away. He put his back to her, continuing his repairs in silence. She left him alone this time, watching him from her berth.

This whole time she'd been going about this wrong. The mech was a warrior, and a damn good one. That much was obvious. She couldn't do a thing to him if she tried to attack. He'd been beaten up and he'd fought so much that he was immune to it. But this...this was the solution. She couldn't surprise him in an assault, so she'd pick at this new weak spot until she had him unraveled in her hands. Touch him, hit on him, whatever it took to make him respond to her until he let himself believe that she could be trusted. Then she would take him out, and steal the shield.

She had a week. That was enough time to win him over.

Flexing the fingers of the hand she'd touched him with, she settled on the berth and waited for him to finish.

* * *

**Tell me what you guys think.**

**Much love. **

**Backlash, Jinx, the burrowers, and the story belongs to me. Transformers does not.**


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Backlash watched her from the corner of his visor, attention split between testing repairs on the ship and keeping track of the femme. She was standing a short distance away, yellow optics bright and locked on him. She hadn't said a word in the past several minutes. Really, she hadn't said much since the night before when he came back from patrol.

She hadn't tried to attack him since he came back, either. She'd just been quietly following him from place to place. The change in behavior was...alarming. He wasn't sure if he was relieved that she wasn't constantly trying to attack him or worried that she suddenly seemed more interested in staring at him.

He forced down a vent of irritation when he remembered the way she'd completely ignored his discomfort and warnings. Even after he'd made himself _clear, _she'd still reached out and touched him. It had taken restraint to keep from damaging her that time. Backlash knew his limits, and she was pushing them. Everything within him rejected the closeness. Contact was bad. A life on the moon among burrowers had taught him that. Unless it came from someone in his own family, it was something to avoid. Always.

Backlash focused on his work when the wiring suddenly spat and sparked angrily. He pulled his hand back before he was shocked. He vented softly, looking over the circuitry. Examining it, he tried not to react when he sensed her approach. She stopped within reach but kept her hands to herself. "You ever been shocked by your own ship before?"

"Once or twice," He answered.

"Do you need any help?"

"No."

"Okay, then."

Backlash waited for her to walk away and find something to do. She hung around instead, so he said, "Shouldn't you be off somewhere scheming up a diabolical plan to steal the shield?"

"Who says I'm not diabolically planning now?" She chirped, sounding a little too happy with herself. Backlash frowned. He didn't like the sound of that. Before he could respond, she started talking again. "Can I ask you something?"

"No."

"Why do you always wear a visor?"

"It helps me see in the caverns." He answered.

"Well I figured that. Why are you wearing it inside where its lit?"

"Old habit, I guess." He paused when he felt small fingers press gently against his back armor. His voice lowered, gaining a hard edge of warning, "Femme-"

"You really got this thing about being touched, don't you?" She didn't pull her hand away. She laid it against his back strut instead, sliding her palm down. Backlash tensed, jaw clenching. "You know, you're the first mech I've seen that didn't just jump on a femme the second she started showing interest."

"Interest in the shield," He said, managing to keep his voice even.

"Maybe." She didn't move back when he turned on her, taking her hand off of his armor. Her yellow optics were bright with mischief, and there was a crooked, sly smile on her face. Her optic ridges rose, "but you're not such a bad prize yourself."

Backlash moved away, forcing himself not to think through her words. Like a pest, the femme followed. She made claws with her hands, "Got nothin' to say, huh?"

"I won't dignify any of this with a response," He said simply, returning to the damaged circuitry in the wall. He really needed to get the security systems up and running again before something bad happened with the burrowers.

"You can tell me," She practically purred. He felt her hands on his armor again, moving down to his lower back. Backlash twisted out of her reach again, turning to glare at her. She smiled sweetly at him, "I'm not going to hurt you, mech."

"Your past actions say otherwise." He pushed her back when she tried to step into his personal space again, "Back off. I'm not going to tell you again."

She put her hands on her hips, narrowing her optics. "Good, 'cause I'm getting tired of hearing it." When he turned his back to her, ignoring her, she vented audibly. "I can go on all day."

"I have no doubt about that," He replied, "your efforts are pointless. Spend your time doing something else."

"Like going through your work room?" Backlash stopped. Her voice became lighter, happy, "all of that glorious, unprotected tech! You know, I've been looking for some good cloaking tech for ages. You know what? I think I'll go check it out now while the securitys down and none of the locking mechanisms work."

Backlash spun on one heel, baring his dentals in a snarl, "Don't even-" She was marching towards the door, a wide grin on her face. Backlash started after her, "If you even set _foot _in that room again-"

"You'll what?! Throw me in the brig for a few hours?" She rolled her optics at him, "I'm so scared."

Backlash ground his dentals. With a sharp vent and a whispered curse, he abandoned his work and went after her. She was prancing down the hall way when he cut her off, blocking her path with his larger frame. He glared down at her from behind his red visor, "Where do you think you're going?"

"To steal some of your stuff. Now if you'd please excuse me, I've got a work room to plunder." She tried to step around him. Backlash moved, shifting forward in a smooth motion. His hand closed around her jaw and throat, and he lifted her off of the floor and away from his frame. She went rigid with shock, optics wide as she tried to process what just happened.

"Stay _out _of my work room," He said. His cracked spark clenched with memory when it finally registered what had happened and her hands lifted to clamp down on his arm, squeezing. He automatically held her out further, remembering the way Viral would thrash and struggle.

Real fear passed through her optics. "Put me down."

"I warned you," Backlash continued, "and you wouldn't listen."

"_Put me down._"

"No."

"Backlash-please don't do this," She whispered.

His optics narrowed, studying her. A part of him just wanted to throw her off the ship right then. She was a huge problem, and she was only making his life the pits right now. A nuisance taking refuge on his ship, consuming his energon stores and pestering him until he felt like he was going insane. He could put her outside now, while he had her. Kick her out and forget she ever walked into his life.

The burrowers would offline her the first night she spent out there. She may not even make it to the wreckage of her ship.

The thought bothered him more than anything she'd done to him. Backlash hesitated, processor splitting between wanting to be rid of her as soon as possible and remembering what it was like to be a victim in a burrower's hunt. He'd been in that position too many times as a sparkling. It was a horror he wouldn't ever wish on anyone, no matter how annoying or infuriatingly unresponsive to his warnings they were. He pictured her offline in the dark, drained of energon and left underground to rust until he stumbled upon her while patrolling. He blocked out the image, shoving it out of his thoughts. No, he couldn't do that. He _wouldn't_.

She was trembling.

Backlash focused on her again, pulling out of his thoughts. Her optics were dim and unfocused. She'd grown still outside of her shaking, a subtle tremor in her body. She was quiet, too. Studying her, Backlash realized that she was in one of her trances, similar to the ones she often dropped into while locked in the brig. She'd shut herself off as much as she could, expecting the worst outcome. He was beginning to understand just how deeply she was damaged.

Something terrible must have happened to her in the past.

Slowly, Backlash lowered her to the floor. When she didn't respond, legs buckling beneath her weight, he shifted his hold on her to keep her on her feet. He supported her until she came back to the present. She tensed, optics focusing on him. He said, "I'm not going to hurt you, Jinx."

* * *

_This is bad. Bad. Bad. Bad. _She tried to force down the hurricane of fear before it completely crashed through her body. Old memories came clawing back to the front of her processor as she stared at the mech, hoping and pleading in her spark that he would let her go.

He hadn't done anything to hurt her yet, which was astounding. He'd given her no reason to be so _afraid._ But she was helpless, raised up in the air with nothing beneath her feet and no hope of breaking free. He had a firm but somehow gentle hold on her. She noted the serious restraint he was showing when he should have been strangling her.

She wasn't stupid. She knew he could offline anyone that was dumb enough, and she was, to piss him off. His whole presence spoke of silent, lethal strength. And yet here he was, handling her like she _hadn't_ just pawed at his armor then threatened to steal his things.

Some part of her was amazed by this. Just how much patience did this mech _have_? The other part of her was freaking out, and soon her processor was flooded with memories. She'd been in this position before with a different mech, only this one hadn't shown _any _restraint. She still remembered the way he squeezed her throat cables, blocking energon lines and bruising her neck vertebrae. A fist the size of her head pulling back to pound into her, crushing armor and splitting lines and wiring. Pain. So much _pain. _Raw fear. She'd been left to offline afterward, with less than half of her armor in tact and several broken places in her frame. She wouldn't have survived if someone hadn't stumbled unto her.

She was moving, then something solid was beneath her feet. It took her a while to pull out of the nightmare and focus back on reality. The mech was setting her down. His face came into focus, red visor dim and a slight frown on his lip plates. He had his arms tucked beneath hers, supporting her. When she looked up at the visor, searching for his optics, he said, "I'm not going to hurt you, Jinx." Any annoyance or anger was gone. His voice was soft now, quiet.

She stared at him, trying to understand why she was still in one piece, or why he was standing her up. Wasn't he mad at her? Hadn't he just threatened her?

Her processor started cycling. The memories and the fear were fading fast. She straightened. He lowered his hands when he was sure she could stay upright on her own, then started to walk away. She had enough control to reach out and poke him in the aft before he was too far. His shoulders raised, a strained vent leaving him. She smiled shakily at his visor when he looked over his shoulder at her.

She lingered in the hall way for a while, trying to assess the morning. Her processor came back to the same two thoughts over and over again, and she found herself smiling.

One was that she had gotten a lot closer to the shield.  
Two was that he had said her designation for the first time.

* * *

**Short update. Loving the response I'm getting from you guys. **

**Thank you for reading! Much love. **

**Backlash, Jinx, the burrowers, and the story belongs to me. Transformers does not.**


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

He was ignoring her.

The mech had finally managed to get the circuitry to stop sparking wildly and was now working at the controls, running a maintenance on the ship's systems to see if every thing was back online and working correctly. She was standing right beside him, both hands on his back armor. She was tracing his scars, learning them. Her optics flickered up to the shield tucked safely beneath the black plates. She swore she could hear it calling her designation.

She was so close to it she could reach up and grab it right then, and she would have if it wasn't for one thing.

The mech was completely calm. She didn't know how, considering that only a day ago he'd been threatening her and twisting away every time she touched him. The sudden change stumped her. She couldn't figure out _why _he was suddenly okay with it. Could she have really gained his trust that quickly?

_No. _She frowned at his back, optics leaving the shield to focus on the back of his helm. _This mech has trust issues out the aft. _She knew it in her spark. For one, the mech was _covered _in some of the ugliest scars she'd ever seen. Some were old, he must have gotten them when he was just a sparkling. If being attacked over and over again as a sparkling wasn't enough to damage someone, she didn't know what was. Then there was the way how he'd reacted the first time she'd made a move on him. The confusion and anger, the break in his mask when he snarled at her and threatened her.

She couldn't wrap her processor around it. Why was he so compliant about it now?

Her fingers found a particularly rough mark. She focused on it, running her palm over it to feel the texture. Jagged on the edges, smooth in the center. A wide scar that cut across his shoulder plating and angled down towards his waist. Had he figured her out? She wondered, fingers following the scar down. Was he in on her plan? Or did he just not care anymore? Whatever it was, she knew that he didn't trust her. Not yet. This calmness meant that he was expecting something to happen, and was completely prepared for it.

_Pits, you're a mess, _She thought as she slid her hand down to his waist. She'd never seen a mech like this one before, so closed off he was blocking out every thing and every one. She'd seen some real screw-ups, but Backlash outdid them all. "Hows it going?" She asked, needing to see some sort of reaction.

He didn't answer, hands still moving steadily across the keys. Her optics narrowed, deciding right then that this mech was a brick wall. There was no getting through to him. With a soft vent, she decided to try something else. Her attention focused on his lower back, right above his aft. It was the smoothest of his armor, streaked with very few scars. She'd been eying it for a while, wondering if it was possible for him to be more sensitive there because of the lack of scarring. Since he wasn't being a good mech and responding to anything else she was doing, she dropped her hands and palmed the cool armor.

She grinned when he tensed, hands pausing. Finally, _something. _She said, keeping her voice light, "You act like I'm going to beat you on the head and run or something."

* * *

It took every thing he had not to respond to her, to remain calm and expressionless.

Backlash had realized sometime between now and the last time they were in the control room that she was doing all of this on purpose. He'd been trying to understand for hours just why she was suddenly more interested in making him uncomfortable than stealing the shield. It took him a while, but he figured it out. This was all a part of the same plan, only she was coming at him from a different angle. One he liked even less.

She was becoming a bigger problem every day, and he could feel himself losing whatever sanity he had left. He didn't know if he'd survive the rest of the week if _this _was what he had to deal with.

The femme didn't understand.

Backlash had told her that he wouldn't hurt her, but he didn't know if he could keep that promise. Contact was bad. His battle routines were always kicking on and off around her, reacting to instincts that had been honed to attack the moment a stranger was within his range with intent to get closer. She wasn't supposed to be this close. Closeness was bad. The burrowers had taught him that. It didn't help that she was now constantly touching him, either.

The touch was so foreign it made his very spark uneasy. He wasn't sure what was worse, fighting his own instincts to keep from offlining her on the spot or feeling her hands just carelessly coast over all of the scars he'd gotten from others that had been this close. He hated it, the contact and the conflict and every thing else this femme was causing him to suffer through. She was challenging every thing he knew.

When he ignored her again, refusing to reply to her words, her hands moved else where. He knew she was trying to wring some sort of reaction out of him, and he was determined not to give it to her. Backlash forced her from his thoughts, making himself focus on what he was doing instead of her fingers stroking his back struts.

"Why are you by yourself up here, anyway?" She asked suddenly, "doesn't it get lonely?"

_I'd rather by lonely right now, _He thought bitterly. She paused long enough for him to answer. He didn't. She went on anyway, hands shifting up his back. "I guess you're used to it though, aren't you?"

Backlash kept monitoring the screen, watching as statistics started to line up on the screen. The diagnostic was finished. As he expected, there was still several things wrong with the security systems. He narrowed his optics. She was still talking, "You're like a lone wolf, aren't you? Alone and detached and-"

Her fingers drifted up his neck. Backlash's attention jerked towards her when she found the scars on his helm. He went rigid, old, painful memories filling his processor. Suddenly he was in the past, in his second frame and edging into a cavern for the first time. He was following a trail of discarded armor, spark aching with fear and concern. Shuttering his optics, Backlash pushed the memory down before it got too painful. He turned to face her, grasping her wrist to pull it away. She blinked up at him curiously.

"You've caused more damage than I originally thought," He said, "security systems are still down."

She slowly lowered her hand when he let go. "Oops."

"'Oops' doesn't quite cover it."

"Can you fix it?"

"At this point, I don't know." He started to walk past her. She fell into step behind him, reaching out to brush over his arm. "I need supplies."

"Is there any on the ship?"

"Yes." Backlash left the room, making his way down the hall. He would have to replace several more pieces before everything was working properly again, and some of those pieces were hidden safely in his quarters. He wondered briefly if he should drop her in the brig before hand so she didn't know where to find his room, but something told him that she'd find it anyway. None of the doors were locking in the first place. She could go any where if she wanted. The realization was disturbing. He _really _needed to fix the ship.

When he passed his work room and the med bay, she moved closer. "Where are we going?"

He worked his jaw when she reached out and hooked her fingers into his hip armor, "Do you mind?"

"Nope. I never mind. Its not in my nature." She said cheerfully, flashing him a bright smile. She fell quiet, taking in their surroundings when he turned into a different hall and led her to the very back of the ship. She paused, tugging on his armor when her optics fell over the doors to everyone's quarters. "You know, I never picked a room to stay in."

"Because you've been spending every night in the brig," He reminded.

She squeezed his armor, "Thats rude."

"Its the truth." He stopped in front of his door long enough for it to open, then he was stepping inside. The femme let him go, standing in the door way with her optics round and bright. Backlash walked around his berth to the shelf in the back with more of his tools and supplies.

She said, "This is...your quarters."

"Yes." He said, pulling out what he needed to store in his subspace.

"Wow...big room." She walked inside. Backlash tilted his head just enough to watch her as she took every thing in. "you know...its dark and cozy in here. Berths big enough for two..." Her optic ridges waggled suggestively. Backlash glared at her, venting quietly.

"You're insane," He said.

She shrugged, "Hey, its possible. No mech is immune to seduction."

"Is that what you're banking on?" He asked.

"Maybe."

"Find another victim." He straightened when he found every thing he needed.

"I don't want to." She followed him back out, "your resistance is just making the hunt that much more fun. I'm going to wear you down one of these days." Her attention shifted else where, and she stopped in the middle of the hall. "Whats this?"

Backlash paused, glancing over his shoulder at her. The femme was staring at something on the wall. Following her gaze, he spotted the massive glass case mounted there. Her yellow optics studied the contents, "A trophy case?" She sounded genuinely curious. Stepping closer, she crossed her arms and leaned in for a better look.

Slowly, Backlash walked back to her, also looking at the case. There was several things inside. Two bone-white blades were crossed at the top. Beneath were a set of lethal rose red claw blades, each one still stained with energon. To the right of them was a dragon's helm, white with heavy scarring around the empty sockets where optics should be. The curled horns, having been broken in battle, were welded back on in a wicked crown. There was an old, banged up rifle. A smaller version of his red visor, cracked. At the bottom was a couple pieces of lime green armor. His optics settled on them, and his spark twisted painfully in his chest.

The femme looked up at him expectantly, "Did you offline all of these guys?"

"No." Backlash answered. "This isn't a trophy case. Not of that sort, any way."

"I don't get it."

"This case is every thing we have faced and overcome," He said, optics lifting to the white dragon's helm. "A reminder of what we have survived to come this far."

"You mean your family."

"Yes."

She squinted at the case, looking at the dragon's helm. "So what, is one of you a predacon?"

"My sister is a beast transformer," He answered. Her optics grew wide at that.

"You have a weird family, Backlash." She pointed at the visor and smiled at him, "You?"

He nodded.

"Aw, you must have been a sparkling when you had this one! Its so tiny and cute! The rifle?"

"My brother's first weapon."

"These?" She was pointing at the white blades now.

"Belonged to my ancestor." She looked at the red claw blades. "My femme creator." She moved down to the green armor. His voice softened against his will, "a friend."

She paused, catching the change in his tone. Looking at him, she asked quietly, "Offline?"

Backlash didn't answer. He stared at the small plates of armor for a moment before he turned and walked away.

* * *

The pain in his voice struck her like a physical blow.

She lingered in the hall, watching him go, then looked back at the odd 'trophy case'. Her optics slid over the contents to land on the armor at the bottom. Small, thin, and autobot-shaped. Whoever this was, he or she had been young when they lost this armor. Perhaps a friend when he was a sparkling?

Her spark clenched. _Pits, this is why. _His silence when she'd asked if the owner of the armor was still online was the only answer she needed. He had lost someone, and from the tone he used, it was someone important. Working her jaw, she tried to sort out this new discovery.

She'd never had any friends.

She'd been alone for as long as she could remember after her mech creator went crazy and tried to offline her in his rage. The only one she'd ever been close to was her sister, who had saved her and sent her away for her own safety. She hadn't seen the older femme since. She didn't know what it was like to have someone she could completely trust, someone that would believe in her. She didn't know what it was like to lose someone like that, but her spark ached for him.

Following him, she studied the mech. He was his usual quiet, ridiculously graceful self. There was nothing in his posture but complete calm. How long had it taken him to learn how to control himself so well? To beat every ounce of feeling out of himself until he showed nothing.

Trotting to catch up with him, she said, "Can I ask you something?"

"No."

"What was his designation? Your friend, I mean."

He was silent, not so much as glancing in her direction. She vented softly in irritation, "I just want to know."

No response.

Throwing her hands up, she said, "So are you just going to ignore me now?"

"That was the plan."

She blinked at him, then glared. _So you wanna play like that, huh?_ When they passed his work room, she changed course and stomped inside. In the hall way, he stopped. "Where do you think you're going?"

"You're going to ignore me so I'm just going to take advantage of it and go through your stuff," She said. She nearly dove inside when he turned and ran towards her.

She knew she only had a few seconds before he caught her, so she scrambled for the bins and stuck her hand inside one she'd completely gone through while he was on patrol a few nights ago. She dug around until she felt the familiar shape of a special piece of tech. He was in the room now, coming towards her. She turned around and made a face at him as she plugged the tech into her frame. An odd feeling coursed through her as it tuned into her energon signature.

"Don't you _dare-_" He was snarling when she activated it. She grinned at the tension filling his frame as the tech integrated smoothly into her systems and reflected light and color. She vanished from sight. She had to fight a fit of giggles when he slowly straightened. His visor scanned the room, searching. Grinning hugely, she tip-toed away.

By far, this had to be her favorite discovery in his workroom. A tech that bent light to hide the wearer. It was brilliant, and it worked perfectly. It was the same cloaking tech she had tried to steal before. Now that she had her hands on it, she wasn't planning on giving it up. Her optics never left him as she circled the room as quietly as she could. She moved slowly. She had realized early on that it was easier for him to track someone if they were rushing him.

The mech was completely still, and she knew all of his senses were on full alert. She crept around the work table until she was sneaking up behind him. He stiffened when she reached out and brushed her finger tips over his side armor. When he moved to attack her, she jumped back wildly, just barely missing his hands.

Managing a somewhat graceful roll on the floor, she sprung back up to her feet and, laughing, ran out the door. The mech pursued, footsteps silent even as he was running after her. When he got close, she swung to the right and flattened herself against the wall to avoid getting grabbed. Then she twisted when he automatically pivoted to face her. She took off again, grabbing his aft roughly as she passed. He cursed violently under his breath in reaction, a scowl on his face. She managed to dodge him every time, too absorbed in the chase to realize where they were going.

She was distantly aware of jumping down a set of steps, turning sharply into the belly of the ship and into a large room when he tried to get his hands on her again. She didn't realize where she was until she was lunging into the next open space, and the sound of a heavy metal gate sliding into place broke through her laughter. Freezing on the spot, she looked around then cursed out loud when she realized where she was.

She'd ran right into the brig.

Backlash was standing on the other side of the bars, arms crossed. His expression was any thing but amused. Swinging around to face him, her processor raced to analyze the situation. Her optics widened when she understood what had happened. Raising a hand to point even though he couldn't see it, she stuttered, "I wasn't dodging your attacks! Y-you were missing me on purpose! You were _herding _me down the fragging ship!"

"You can stay in there for the rest of your time on the ship," He said, a sharp edge to his voice, "you're not leaving until you give me my tech back."

She gawked at him, stunned by the realization. Did he _really _just do that? He let her believe that she was actually in control, let her run and run until she ran herself right down into the brig? Those grabs were mock lunges, meant to push her in the right direction. She just stood there, staring dumbly at him in her shock. She tried her hardest to be angry, to rage and scream and curse until she passed out from the effort.

All she said was, "How did you _do _that?" Her voice was filled with awe. "You could have caught me at any time, couldn't you?"

"I could have," He answered.

She laughed, turning away. "Pits, you're brilliant," She said breathlessly, "I love the way you think, Backlash."

"Usually someone in your position wouldn't be so happy."

She started towards the barred door, keeping her foot steps as light and quiet as possible. It was working. He wasn't backing away, either because he couldn't hear her or he didn't care. His attention shifted to her when she asked, "So if I give you back the tech, you'll let me out?"

"So you can steal it again?" He asked.

"I did enjoy that little chase."

"I won't release you immediately, but yes."

She thought it through carefully. Snaking her hands between the bars, she reached out and-

"Don't touch," He warned. She paused, squinting at him.

"How'd you know?" She asked, pressing forward any way.

"Because," He paused briefly when she brushed over the head lights on his chest plates, "it seems like something you would do." He stepped back stiffly, moving out of range.

"I'll give it back to you if you let me hold unto that shield for a little bit," She purred, allowing her arms to hang down through the bars.

"You're relentless."

She shrugged, "Persistence is admirable. It usually gets the job done." She tilted her head, then offered, "I'll give it back if you let me hug you?"

He tensed again, a bit of confusion taking over his expression. He repeated slowly like he was speaking to a slow sparkling, "Let you hug me..."

"Its not such a bad thing. You look like you could use one." She said, "besides. Don't you think you owe me that after you humiliated me by leading me in here?"

"You led yourself in here."

"Yes or no, mech."

"No."

She sighed dramatically, "You're a tough cookie." She studied him, then said softly, thinking again of the sparkling-sized green armor in the case, "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Everyone keeps telling me that," He said, an odd note to his voice that sounded a lot like sadness.

"Thats because we mean it."

"You're a thief. You don't mean anything beyond making a promise to take the shield."

"Ouch, that really killed the mood." She rolled her optics at him, "I may be a thief, mech, but I know what its like to be damaged. I know what it looks like and how it feels. And I know that those scars cut deeper than your armor."

"You know nothing about me."

"Yeah, I do, actually." She let the cloaking drop, appearing before him again with both optic ridges raised. "I know that you're up here all alone. I don't know why you stayed behind, but maybe its because you're so damaged you think its the only way you'll heal. I know that you're covered in scars that should have offlined you, and that you're too young to look like that. I also know now that you lost someone." He changed, a very subtle shift in his posture and expression. She caught it, pushing on, "probably when you were younger and I bet you a tank of high grade that its why you can't bring yourself to let anyone else in."

He stepped back into grabbing range again, but she didn't try any thing on him. Her full attention was on his face when he leaned down slightly and said, voice strained and cold, "You know _nothing._"

"When was the last time you were happy?" She asked quietly, optics saddening, "its been a while, hasn't it?"

He stilled. A ghost of the pain inside of him took over his expression. Without another word, he turned and left the brig, leaving her to stand there and think through the day in silence. Rolling her optics up towards the ceiling, she vented quietly. "You're getting too close, Jinx," She told herself, "get the shield first, then you can ask him to cry on your shoulder."

* * *

**Some fun and some forced counseling...Jinx just keeps getting herself into trouble. :)**

**I kinda liked the idea of them having the 'trophy case', even though it pretty much marks some of the worst parts of their lives. Its important to remember them, though, and that they were strong enough to move on. I tried to include something from everyone-Paradox's blades, which were broken off in the battle against Galvatron. Demona's old claw blades, which she removed herself after her little insane killing spree. Lunar-Song's helm, yadayadayada. Stuff like that. The only one I didn't include was Jolt, but he didn't start having these kind of problems until after he met Demona, so...**

**Hope you guys enjoyed, much love.**

**Backlash, Jinx, and the story belongs to me. Transformers does not.**


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

It took a few hours before she realized something crucial.

After sitting in the corner with her face in the wall, she remembered that the system's security was down, along with all of the locking mechanisms. All the doors, even the hatch to the outside world, were unlocked. She felt like smacking her head on the wall for being so slow.

Climbing to her feet with a vent, she approached the barred door of her cell. She gripped the bars tightly, intakes deepening. Broadening her stance, she pulled at it with all of her strength. The metal groaned, and the door began to slide free. She grinned wide, wiggling in triumph as she continued to guide it back. The thing was _heavy. _Her arms were going to be sore for a while after this.

She managed to open it enough to slip through. She did, running out of the brig like a convict that had just broken out of prison. Streaking up the stairs, she burst into the main hall and slid to a stop. Looking up and down the hall, she activated the cloaking tech and forced herself to calmly walk through the ship, searching for the mech. She wondered if he knew that the cell doors in the brig were unlocked? She imagined he did. The mech was too smart not to notice. Maybe he thought that she wouldn't.

She started towards the control room. When she poked her head inside and found it empty, she backed out and made her way towards his work room.

The door was open.

Creeping up on her toe plates, she peeked inside. The mech was sitting at the table, tools and parts scattered over the surface. He was working in silence, all of his attention on rebuilding what looked like a circuit board. She studied him, watching the way how he handled the delicate piece. Her optics shifted from his hand to his arms, over scarred black plating to his shoulders. She thought about just running inside and jumping on him to see his reaction, but something told her that he might snap if she did that.

Instead, she turned off the cloaking tech and leaned against the door frame. She knocked her knuckles on the wall softly. He tensed, hands pausing. A whole three seconds passed until he vented audibly. "Remembered the locks weren't working?"

"Yep." She said, smiling. "Really kinda disappointed with myself that I didn't think of it sooner...can I come in?"

"You're asking?" He said without looking at her.

Her smile grew. She stepped inside and came to stand beside him. Her optics brightened as she looked at his work, "For the ship?"

"Yes."

"If I sit down, you won't offline me for earlier, right?"

"I will get my tech back."

She grinned and posed against the table, and said, "You'll have to frisk me for it." He made this expression when he looked at her, something between confusion and disbelief, and she laughed. He frowned at her.

"Does every thing turn into something suggestive with you?"

"Only when it leaves your mouth," She said cheerfully. She settled on the bench beside him, optics on his hands as he kept working. "You've done this before haven't you?"

"A few times." He answered.

Folding her arms on the table's edge, she leaned over and rested her chin on them. "How long have you been working on it?"

"Since you ran into the brig."

This time, she was the one frowning. She accused, "I wouldn't have done it if you weren't hot on my aft the whole way. Its your fault, not mine. It was fun, though. Most fun I've had on this rock." Her optics lifted to his face, "So...you're not mad at me at all?"

"Irritated out of my processor," He muttered, "but I'm not going to offline you. Yet."

She grinned at him, "Your optics are red, right?"

"I don't see how thats important."

"I've never seen them before. Its very important."

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"They're red."

She hummed quietly, "Can I see them?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'm trying to work," He said, "find something to do."

"I am doing something. I'm pestering you." She shifted, eyeing the circuit board as she thought of something.

"So I've noticed."

"Shouldn't you take a break from that for a while?" Sitting up again, she uncrossed her arms. He kept working without pause.

"It needs to be done."

"You'll work yourself into the ground." She slid on the bench until she was close enough to feel the warmth of his frame. He ignored her advance, going about his work like nothing was happening. She curved an arm around his back, keeping her touch light and non-threatening. Leaning into him, she eased the other across his chest and embraced him.

He went rigid, body drawn so tight it looked painful. Tucking her face in against his shoulder, she said, "Calm down, Backlash. I'm not doing any thing to hurt you."

"Let go."

"No. Not everyone that gets this close is going to try to offline you. I have to show you that."

"No," He bit out, voice low and harsh, "you're just going to put me into stasis and steal the one thing worth taking on this ship. Let go."

He felt nice, she realized. Other than the raw tension in his frame, he was solid and strong. His armor was cool, the moon dust coating it smelled different, but it was a good different. It smelled like him, like every thing that he was. Darkness, cold, distance. She shuttered her optics, unable to keep from snuggling closer. He felt _safe, _and her spark did something weird and her processor turned on her and wondered what it would be like if she really was trying to start something here. What would it be like to have this mech, all of him? To be his center, the one he could trust and rely on. The one that chased the pain and darkness away.

She wasn't starting anything, of course. _Just here for the shield. Grab the shield, _she told herself. At the same time, a tiny voice whispered, _Not yet. Just a little bit longer._ She obeyed the tiny voice happily, then slowly released him. "See?" She said quietly, "I didn't hurt you. Just a little hug."

He was watching her warily like she was a dangerous enemy. She smiled at him then, hating herself for it, disengaged the stolen tech in her arm and offered it to him. "Deal is a deal. One tech for a hug." It physically hurt her to give it up so easily, but the look on his face was worth it. He just stared at her for a moment, expression lost between shock and disbelief with a hint of caution. He took it back slowly. He glanced back at her, and she felt a surge of triumph blaze through her.

He was completely stumped, and it was clear on his face. What she had done was so confusing to him that he had dropped the toneless mask and she could see that he was thinking really hard about it. He said, voice full of suspicion, "Where exactly are you going with this?"

She shrugged, "I don't know but you're adorable when you're confused."

It took every thing she had not to laugh at his reaction to her words.

* * *

She was the most confounding femme he'd ever seen, and he couldn't, no matter how hard he tried, figure her out. He couldn't tell what her motive was for this. Logic said this was what she wanted, to confuse him so he wouldn't be prepared for the inevitable attack. He wasn't sure. She was cunning, but he didn't think that she'd just give up the tech she'd stolen so...easily. She was a thief. Wasn't she supposed to hoard stolen items and _not _give them back to their real owner? She had, almost like it was a reward for not offlining her on the spot when she put her arms around him.

Contact was bad. Every inch of him had wanted to tear away from her and strike her down before she could hurt him. She was close enough, she could have easily targeted his weak points and struck before he could even react. If there was ever a time to attack him and take the shield, it was right then. It was what she had been working up to, wasn't it?

But she didn't. And that was what confused him. If that wasn't bad enough, she'd willingly _given _him the cloaking tech.

Backlash didn't understand. This femme was on an entirely new level of unpredictable. Now she was just sitting there, so close their armor was touching, with this ridiculous smile on her face. Her yellow optics were bright like she was laughing on the inside, hands calmly in her lap. She wasn't scowling like she knew she missed her chance, and she wasn't leaning back in for another 'hug' to try again. She was just sitting there, studying him. There was an odd softness in her expression that made him uneasy.

Her words echoed in his processor despite his efforts at blocking them out. He didn't know what any of this meant, other than the femme was undeniably insane. She had to be. It was the only explanation.

He almost jumped when she reached up to curve a hand over his arm. Her smile grew, "You're staring, mech."

"You know that this isn't going to work," He managed to say, still watching her, "whatever this is, whatever you have planned, it will fail like all the other times you tried to take the shield."

"Maybe." She hummed softly, optics leaving his face. He tensed when she leaned against him, "at least now I can finally get my hands on you."

"It won't make a difference."

"I think it already has." She argued, "how many femmes have been able to get this close to you, Backlash?"

His spark clenched, _Not many_. His hidden optics shifted away from her and he returned to his work. He didn't pull away from her, simply because he knew that she'd just follow him. He kept most of his attention on her, picking up his tools as he started on the circuit board again.

* * *

**Another short update...but I like this one. :) **

**Hope you enjoyed reading it. Much love!**

**Jinx, Backlash, and the story belongs to me. Transformers does not. **


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"Any of these rooms," Backlash said, motioning towards the left side of the hall. "They're unclaimed. Pick one."

"What? You're not going to make me recharge in the brig tonight?"

"If the locks were working, you _would_ be recharging in the brig."

She shot him a look then slid her hand down his back to squeeze his aft. "Stop being rude."

Backlash clenched his jaw. "Just pick one," He bit out. She leaned against him, optics scanning the doors. He resisted the urge to step away and let her fall. A reaction was what she wanted, and he wasn't about to give her one. No matter how uncomfortable he was. Her hand remained where it was. He tried to block her out, her touch and her presence.

"Which ones bigger?" She asked.

"Does it matter?"

"You don't have experience dealing with femmes, do you?" She tilted her head up to look at him.

"I don't get out much," He dead-panned. Her hand was moving up, fingers stroking over his lower back.

"Well I'm going to teach you something. Bigger is usually better when it comes to us."

"Thats ridiculous."

"No its not! Bigger room means more space."

"Space for what?" He crossed his arms, "you'll only be here for a few more days before your week is up. What could you possibly need space for?"

"Mech, I am not afraid to force you into another hug." She threatened, "grow some manners, will you? Thats no way to treat a-"

"A thief?" He offered. She narrowed her optics at him.

"Oh, I see how it is. You wanna play like that, huh?"

"I'm not playing at anything. Pick a room." They glared at each other for a moment before she sighed dramatically and stepped away. She then proceeded to open and look inside every room. He said, "they're all the same size."

"Now you tell me, after I've wasted time looking at them." She walked back to the one in the middle and nonchalantly stepped inside. She turned a slow circle, eyeing the bare walls and berth inside. "Yep. I guess this one will do."

Backlash vented softly. It wasn't like the room had something special the others didn't. She turned and faced him, raising an optic ridge. Both hands on her hips, she said, "So what? Good night?"

He nodded.

"How do you know I won't just plunder the ship while you're recharging?"

"I'll know when I wake and check the surveillance footage."

She blinked at that, optics widening. "I thought security was down."

"Surveillance isn't directly joined to security. Its still a functioning system in the ship." He watched the disappointment flicker across her face. It was gone in an instant. She made a 'shoo-ing' motion.

"Go away, then. I'm not going to settle with you standing on the other side of the door, watching and judging me."

Backlash warned, "Its not too late to weld a manual lock on the cell door in the brig." She cringed. He turned to walk away, pausing when he sensed her approach again. He went rigid when both of her arms closed around him from behind, squeezing him. Grinding his dentals, he stilled. "_Jinx._" He forced through his dentals.

"Relax." She ordered, nuzzling into his back armor. "Pits, you smell nice."

"_What_?"

"Nothing!" She let him go and trotted back into her room. "Sweet dreams, mech!"

Backlash stiffly stepped away, shaking his head as he shoved all thoughts of her from his processor. He left the guest hall and made his way to his own quarters. He was tempted to stay up throughout the night to make sure she didn't get into anything, but he'd been running on less and less recharge since she landed on the moon. He needed to be at his strongest if he was going to be stuck with her for the rest of the week.

Settling on his berth, he allowed his frame to slip into a light recharge.

He onlined sometime later, alarm coursing through him when the first thing he became aware of was a bright pair of optics above him. Next was the hand that was on his shoulder. Battle routines cycling on, he moved. One hand flew up to the other's neck, and he shifted his body on the berth and brought him down hard on the surface, flat on his back. Backlash drew one of his blades with his free hand, laying the edge against the other's chest plates.

"Pits!" The other rasped, hands open and raised in a sign of surrender, "Its me, Backlash!"

Backlash's hidden optics focused on the face of the other, taking in colored cheek gears, a yellow and purple helm and wide yellow optics. His breath caught, realization hitting him like a slap to the face. "Jinx?!" He started. Shock filled him when she smiled up at him shakily.

"You looked so peaceful...until you, well, you know, pinned me down and tried to cut my spark out."

The shock left. Anger took its place. He bared his dentals, snarling, "What the _pit _are you doing in here?!"

"I wasn't trying _anything_. I woke you up for a reason!" She hissed back, optics shifting down, "can you _please _get that sword away from my spark?"

"No," He squeezed the hand around her throat, pressing the blade closer instead. The sharp edge fit neatly into the seam of her armor, threatening to split it open if she wasn't compliant. She tilted her head back, intakes quickening. One of her hands clamped down on his arm. "Why are you here!"

"Some sounds-" He felt her swallow, "heard some spooky sounds in the ship. I knew it wasn't you-you don't make sounds. Trying to warn you-"

Backlash froze, optics widening. Her earlier words caught up with him, echoing in his processor; _"I woke you up for a reason"._

"-Somethings wrong. I came in here to wake you up."

Backlash took his optics off her, looking towards his open door. His entire frame stilled over her as he strained his senses. His hand loosened on her throat, and he raised the blade so it wasn't touching her armor. She vented quietly, then wiggled around. She said, "This is a really fun position, Backlash, but-"

"Shh." He hushed, covering her mouth. She obeyed, glaring up at him. Backlash ignored her, completely focused on listening. A couple of bangs down in the ship, in the direction of the control room. The scuttle of claws over metal. Shifting on his knees, he sheathed his sword and stretched an arm down to lift the shield from where he'd left it at the foot of his berth. He felt her hands land on his side plating, squeezing.

"What is it?" She whispered.

"Burrowers." Backlash set the shield in place on his back, tucking an arm under her to guide her up as he dropped down to the floor. "Stay behind me, watch your back. Expect assaults from the ceiling. I don't know how many got in, but there can't be more than a handful."

"Hide behind you, look up and behind." She nodded, following him out.

Backlash moved down the hall way, visor brightening as he scanned the interior of the ship. He drew both blades, keeping his sensors open so he'd know the moment one decided to attack. The femme crowded close behind him, one hand resting on his back.

They made out of the back of ship before the first one dropped from the ceiling.

* * *

She really wished she had her rifle right about now.

Huddling as close as she could against the mech without getting in his way, she repeated the thought over and over again in her processor. She was constantly looking at their surroundings, looking for the first sign of an attack. She didn't see a burrower any where.

The mech ahead of her shifted. All of her attention snapped to him as he lunged forward, curving both blades up into the air in a graceful arc. She blinked, and something fell at her feet, screaming and thrashing. Moving backwards, she had enough time to take in that it was a mech on the floor, one of the three burrowers that had attacked her when she first landed on the moon. His screeching lasted less than a minute, entire frame becoming slack when Backlash brought one of his blades down into the mech's chest.

She stared, processor struggling to catch up with what happened. She wasn't even aware of the black mech moving towards her until one of his hands grasped her arm and pulled her forward. She started to trot after him, staring with wide optics at his back. He said, "Don't stop moving."

She nodded mutely, still trying to understand how he could have moved so slagging fast. Even watching him, moving slower on purpose so she could keep up, it was hard to keep track of his movements. Every thing was seamless, a liquid smooth motion that blended into the next. She realized then that she never had a chance of overthrowing him in battle. _Good thing I changed tactics._

He led her into the control room, where two more burrowers were crouched on top of the control panel, clawing and hissing at the keys. They turned on them the moment they entered. She hung back, not willing to get her spark clawed out when she didn't even have something to defend herself with. One of them lashed out at him in warning, snarling. Backlash took a step towards them, and the ceiling caved above them.

Wide sheets of paneling crashed on the floor, littered in claw marks. Huge cables tumbled out, spilling fuel and energon on the floor. Three more burrowers leaped down. Jinx jumped backwards, optics wide and darting around the room as all five of them closed in on him. Backlash pulled himself out of the mess on the floor and met them half way. He cut through the first two effortlessly, twisting to take out the others. One rolled past his feet, scrambling over the debris. She went rigid when it's wide optics fixed on her, and suddenly it was coming straight for her.

Reaching down to grab one of the ceiling panels, she braced herself and swung it as hard as she could when the burrower was close enough. The metal rattled with impact, but it didn't stop the burrower from ducking under to slash at her legs. "Fragging _pits,_" She hissed, smacking him again, "really?!"

Before she could hit him a third time, he was twisting past her legs. She tried to pull away, running right into the cables hanging down from the ceiling. With a sharp vent, she dropped the panel and slapped at them to get them out of her way, "Backlash! I could use some help over here-" She yelped when she felt sharp claws cut across her back plating. "OW! Glitch!" She yanked on a cable until it gave, then swung it around and slapped the burrower across the face with it. "How do you like that, huh?!"

The burrower jerked away with a squeal, baring sharp dentals at her. "Thats right," She huffed, glaring back, "theres more where that came from!" She blinked when she heard a pained hiss behind her. Cracking the cable at the burrower like it was a big, clumsy whip, she glanced over her shoulder in time to see Backlash completely sever a mech's head from his body. A second was standing on his shoulders, claws raking across his face.

Panic filled her spark as energon began to spill out of the claw marks on the black mech's face, his visor cracking loudly. Completely forgetting about the burrower spitting and screaming in front of her, she turned and ran for him, "Backlash! Hold still!"

Backlash had his hand fisted in the burrower's armor and was pulling him off. The burrower squealed and swiped his claws across the back of the mech's head. Backlash's frame jolted, his visor flashed, and his knees began to buckle. Cursing, she dropped the cable to lift a sword Backlash had dropped, and she drove it into the burrower's back before he could escape. The blade sliced through the armor so easily it was disturbing. Twitching wildly, the burrower let go and tumbled off. She turned to Backlash, "Are you okay?"

But he was already standing back up, focused on the last of the burrowers. The last mech moved back slowly, eyeing them both before he turned and sprung back up into the ceiling. Backlash started forward to cut him off, but stopped and turned on one heel to rush back to her. Confused, she asked, "Whats wrong?"

"Sparks," He said, dropping down to a knee beside her. Her optics widened, flying up to the ceiling as the burrower began to pull and scratch at sparking wiring until he brought it into contact with the dripping energon. Sheathing his blade, Backlash lifted the Sky Boom shield from his back plates and brought it down on the floor just as the energon lit up in bright flames. Amazed and a little frightened, she watched as he pushed his fist into the braces built into the shield. The weapon crackled with energy, like it was coming alive. The outer plates lifted and expanded, and a blue force field opened to envelop them.

The flames were spreading rapidly, eating their way through the ship. The burrower was caught in them and started to scream and flail until he fell back to the floor. "Um," She started, creeping closer to Backlash, "shouldn't we be getting off the ship before it explodes and blows us to the pit?"

"No time," He said, "brace yourself." She did, cramming up against him and wiggling her way under his arm. An irritated vent left him but he let her get away with it. She decided to push her luck, curling an arm around his back and squeezing. The flames had filled the room now, the ship's alarms blaring over head. A white light filled the room, so bright she had to turn away. Burying her face in his side, she waited for the explosion.

The entire ship quaked, the air seared around them with the heat of it, the blast roaring in their audios. _We're going to offline, right here, right now, _she thought. Her fingers sank into the creases between his armor. The floor rattled beneath them and suddenly they were both air born, thrown so hard she was torn away from him. She tumbled through ash and smoke until she slammed into something solid. Frame stunned from the impact, all she could do was lay still and try to recover.

Seconds stretched into minutes. It felt like an age before she could slow her intakes, and even longer before she could form a complete thought. Slowly, she dragged herself up to her feet. She blinked several times before she could see. When she could, her optics widened. The black space around her was streaked with slowly floating smoke. Pieces of the ship were still spiraling down all over the place. The ship itself, what was left of it, lay blown open in the middle of it all. It was still spouting flames, though they were already beginning to die.

"Primus," She rasped, staring. "How the pits did five little psycho-paths do this?"

Taking a moment to steady herself, she started to stagger away from the crater she landed in. Her optics moved away from the ship to scan the wreckage surrounding it. She looked for the mech, or the shield, or any other sign of him. She tripped and stumbled her way across the moon's surface, optics never leaving the ground. She didn't stop until a perfectly round piece of alloy caught her attention, laying by itself in the dust and ash. She froze in place, optics round when she recognized it.

The Sky Boom shield, laying out in the open. Unprotected, completely free for the taking.

Slowly, she started towards it. She held her breath until she was standing over it, fingers twitching as she imagined holding it for the first time. Her prize, the very thing she'd been fighting for since she came here. It was her life, her freedom, the one thing that could appease Lockdown, and now it was hers. She knelt and reached out to pick it up, testing the weight in her hands as she lifted it carefully like it was the most precious thing in the universe. It was heavy, the alloy was dense and foreign. She waited for it to come to life like it did when Backlash touched it, but it remained as it was. In her hands it felt cold and heavy, and _wrong. _

She blinked, turning it in her hands slowly. Still, the shield wouldn't react. It wouldn't shimmer or light up like it did with the mech, and the realization struck her. She whispered, "You don't like me, do you?" She squeezed the edges, "you know I'm going to take you away from him." She brought the shield to her chest, hugging it as she once again looked around. Where was he, any way? He should have been up on his feet by now, threatening her or even rushing her to reclaim it.

_Who cares? _A voice said harshly in her head, _you've got the shield. Find a way to reach Lockdown. Get down to earth. Save your hide._

Nodding to herself, she straightened and started to move away. She made it a whole three steps before her processor betrayed her and threw the memory of how he ran back to her before the ship blew. He came back and _saved _her, and she had no idea _why. _She hadn't done anything but attack him then grab at his armor until he nearly offlined her. She'd consumed his energon, gone through his things, stolen from him, and even damaged the ship-

Something cold pierced her spark.

_I damaged the ship's security. _The burrowers wouldn't have made it inside if it wasn't for _her. _None of this would have happened, it shouldn't have, but it did because of her. _And he __**still**__, _the tiny voice in the back of her processor whispered, _saved you. _Now the mech was no where in sight. He could be offline, or scattered across the moon in pieces. She winced at the thought, stamping down on it.

No, he was online. He had to be.

She changed directions, searching through the debris more carefully than before. She was going to find this mech. _I'll just make sure he's still online, _She told herself, _drag him out of the open and leave. I can't do anything else for him. _The longer she searched, the worse the ache in her spark became. She couldn't even find a piece of his scarred armor, and it was really beginning to worry her. She looked for hours before she stumbled across him, face down on the ground. He wasn't moving.

"Backlash!" Fear and relief flooded through her. She ran to him, falling to her knees at his side. She dropped the shield and grasped his shoulders, "pits, mech, you-" She managed to roll him over, cutting herself off with a sharp intake when she saw his face.

The scratches were still leaking, though much less than before. Most of the energon had dried on his cheek plates and throat cables. There was fresh slash marks in different places on his helm, but none of these things stood out to her. Somewhere in the explosion, he'd broken the rest of his visor. Nothing was left but a jagged line of glass beneath his helm. For the first time, she saw his full face.

"_Pits_." She breathed, staring. He was _gorgeous. _She'd thought he was a nice looking mech to begin with, but she had no idea that _this _was hiding behind the visor. She couldn't stop herself from reaching down to touch his cheek, right below an optic. His body tensed, reacting to the contact even when he was unconscious. The fear in her spark vanished when his optics lit and opened, dim at first. His frame went rigid and a hand flew up to clench around her arm. She said, "Its okay, Backlash. Its me. I've been looking for you for hours..." She trailed off when his optics brightened, a rich, vivid red that was beautiful and threatening at once. She was pretty sure that it was the prettiest shade of red she'd ever seen, and she just couldn't stop _staring_.

"Jinx," He whispered, voice oddly weak sounding. She nodded, shifting her hand down to his shoulder. She squeezed his scarred armor. Studying his face, she noticed that something was off about his reactions. His optics were in her direction, but they weren't quite focused. They looked dazed, unclear. His hand tightened on her upper arm, but something told her it wasn't out of anger.

"Are you okay?" She asked, leaning closer. "Your optics-" She tensed when it hit her. "You can't see, can you?"

"No." The answer was quiet, much softer than his usual tone and she had to strain to hear it. Her spark twisted. _This isn't good. _

"You can't see _anything_?" She waved a hand in front of his face, but his optics didn't move to follow. Working her jaw, she assessed their situation. That same voice came back, ordering her to just abandon him. _He's fine. Online, even talking. Grab the shield. He's blind, and damaged. He won't stop you. He can't. _

She almost reached for the shield on the other side of him, but stopped when his other hand lifted cautiously, palm open and seeking. Quietly, she pressed her fingers into his hand. Her optics returned to his face, again focusing on his red gaze. Despite all of his scars, all of his jagged black armor and the lethal swords he wielded, his optics were soft. They had a gentle shape, unlike any other she'd seen, and they looked unseeingly at her with a hint of fear.

She'd never seen him show fear before, and it made her spark tighten in her chest. Suddenly, the shield and any plan of escape was forgotten. Her processor shifted to an entirely different train of thought. She didn't want him to be afraid. Sliding her fingers across his palm to close around his hand, she asked, "How bad is your damage?"

"Optic sensory processing is down," He answered, "back struts are damaged. Left knee. Rest is mostly surface wounds."

She wasn't a medic, so she had no idea what needed to be done to repair him. Venting softly, she leaned closer and slid her arm around him to help him up. "Sit up for me." One of his arms braced against her shoulders for support, and it wasn't lost on her that it was the first time he'd touched her without pinning her against something. She forced down a shiver when she felt his hand grip her shoulder blade, firm but gentle at the same time. She wondered if he was doing this on purpose, or if being blind freaked him out so much that he just didn't care anymore.

A near inaudible vent of pain left him, but he managed to sit up, leaning against her in the process. She stilled for a moment, taking everything in. The mech was leaning forward, tilted at the waist to take pressure off of his damaged back strut. His shoulder was against her collar, strong arm looped around her side and back to help keep him upright. Her intakes hitched. By then she should have been used to touching him, after spending hours groping him. There had been moments when they were closer than this, but not one of them even compared.

He was open for the first time, not only allowing the contact but almost encouraging it in his own way. He was _trusting _her. Damaged, blind, and unable to support himself, and he was trusting her. Her, a thief that had been bent on wearing him down and stealing his shield the first chance she had.

She tried to ignore the voice that told her he didn't have a choice. It vanished anyway when she felt his arm lower from her back to brace on the ground between them. She missed the contact instantly. "I'm not a medic," She told him, voice unsure, "I can't help you."

"I know."

"But I can get you out of the open." She turned her head to look at his face in time to see something pass through his optics that looked like surprise. It was gone as soon as it appeared, and she wondered if she'd just been imagining it.

He worked his jaw, then, "What are you waiting for."

"For you to stand up." She rolled her optics at him.

"No," He tilted his head in her direction, optics searching, "this is your chance. Why aren't you taking it? I can't stop you from taking the shield."

She stared at him, trying to come up with an answer. She wasn't really sure herself, though it must have had something to do with those beautiful optics, and the way he was so vulnerable in that moment after being nearly untouchable for the past week. There was a sense of surrender about him. He couldn't stop her, and he knew it, and that was also part of the reason. "I don't know," She told him, "its what I've been trying to work towards this whole time."

"Yes, it is. Why aren't you doing anything about it?"

She couldn't answer him. Instead, she shifted against his body and guided his arm back up and over her shoulders. "We need to get going. At this point, my ship is a lot safer than yours is, and its a long ways off."

She pushed up against his body, helping him stand. Thankfully, he didn't push her to answer his questions. Even though he was beaten to the pits, he managed to stand up. She supported him, pausing briefly before she stepped over the shield. She bent down quickly to retrieve it, tilting it in her hand. Then, without really even thinking it through, she stretched up on her toe plates and twisted against him to press it to his back armor.

As soon as the shield was in contact with his armor, it lit up, warming against her fingers. Backlash went rigid against her, that same look of complete, stunned confusion filling his face as his back armor rearranged and she set the shield inside.

_I can always steal it when we get back to my ship, _She told herself. In the mean time, she was going help this mech and laugh at his obvious confusion at her actions. He really was adorable when he was stumped.

* * *

**One problem leads to another, and Jinx is at the center of it all. **

**Backlash has an intense fear of being blind. Flashback talks about it somewhere in '_The Hidden'. _Can't think of the exact chapter right off the top of my head.**

**Anyway...hope you guys enjoyed, much love. Tell me what you thought of this chapter. **

**Backlash, Jinx, the burrowers and the story belongs to me. Transformers does not. **


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"Step up," She said quietly. He felt her hand shift down to his hip like she was going to help him climb up into her ship even though they both knew she couldn't lift him. Backlash obeyed, raising his foot until he met the edge of the ship. She was right beside him, leading him up and inside the ship she'd crash landed in days prior. Backlash let her guide him, becoming completely dependent on her the moment he left the moon's surface.

He knew his ship. He knew parts of the moon. Her ship was a complete mystery, and he had no idea of where to go. "Theres a place for you to sit in here," She said, shifting against him. Since she'd pulled him to his feet, she'd become attached to his side, under his arm. It was odd, and the contact made him uneasy like it always did, but he was thankful for the first time that she was there. This way he knew exactly where she was, and through her where _he _was. The thought of her turning on him and using his weakness to take the shield was always creeping on the edge of his processor, despite the femme making it clear that she wasn't going to.

Primus, she'd _given_ the shield back to him, and he couldn't understand _why. _He thought so hard about it on their way to the ship, mostly to block out his growing fear of being completely blind, that his processor was aching from the effort. Wasn't the shield the whole point of all of this? Wasn't it the center of her attention, the one thing she wanted from him? She had a perfect chance to take it, and she didn't. Now it was back in it's place in his armor, safe. She had put it there herself.

"Sit down here," She said, taking his hand in hers to reach out and touch his fingers to what felt like a pilot's chair. Backlash did, though he didn't relax completely. He couldn't, not in this crippled state with his sight gone and a thief standing in front of him. She left him suddenly, the loss of contact a shock. His spark twisted with anxiety and he resisted the urge to reach for her. She was a massive pain in his aft, and she talked too much and she had no respect for personal space, but he was blind. He was blind, damaged, low on energon and low on energy. Though he was trying his hardest, the fear was clawing into his spark.

He _hated _being blind. It was the one fear that had remained from his sparkling years, one of the few things that got under his armor and worried him into a mess of paranoia. It was why he counted his steps every where, why he learned the layout of any place he was staying in for an extended period of time, so he'd know exactly where to go in case something like this did happen. That wasn't the case here, and as frustrating as it was, she was the only thing that was familiar.

Some banging around across the room pulled him from his thoughts. He listened, gladly accepting the distraction before he lost his processor. She came back, her foot steps heavier than usual. The femme was getting tired, too. She stopped in front of him, "Its not the good stuff like you got on your ship, but its something." A cube of energon was pressed into his hand.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked.

"Doing what?"

"This," He motioned towards the ship.

"Well you've put up with my slag for most of the week, it would be rude if I didn't return the favor, you know?"

Backlash vented quietly. That answered none of his questions. He swallowed some of the energon. It was bitter, but it gave him some of his strength back. His thoughts returned to finding a motive for all of this. What advantage could she possible gain from pulling him out of the wreckage and even dragging him unto her ship? It didn't make sense. Then again, neither did her returning the stolen tech so easily, or her placing the shield on his back. Was this all a plan meant to confuse him? If it was, it was working.

"Why do you wear the visor?" She asked, "other than that it helps you see in the dark."

Backlash wished he could see her expression to see where she was going with this. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because you're freaking gorgeous and you shouldn't hide behind a piece of glass." She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He tensed. He hadn't been expecting _that _response. When she leaned closer, he shifted back automatically, clenching his jaw when it put more strain on his back strut. She touched him lightly on the face, fingers soothing over the scratches across his cheek plates.

"Pits, you're handsome," She muttered, "has anyone ever seen you without the visor?"

"A few," He said, becoming more uncomfortable by the minute. If he wasn't blind and damaged, he would have stood up and walked away from her. He started, hoping to distract her from getting any closer, "I don't...hide behind it. It serves a purpose."

"What purpose."

"My optics are light sensitive."

"...Really? Is that why you keep a lot of rooms dark on your ship?"

"Yes."

"I had no idea. Are the lights in here bothering you?"

"No. The optical sensory wiring was disrupted somehow, I can't see or feel discomfort from the lighting."

"So what are you going to do? You can't see to repair your injuries, and I don't know what to do."

"I don't know." Exhaustion was beginning to set in. "I need to contact the autobots on earth and tell them what happened. If my creators have any say in it, they'll be up here in the next forty-eight hours."

"It doesn't look like you'll be doing anything right now," She said softly. The hand on his face slid down his throat to rest on his shoulder. "You look tired, mech. Finish your energon and recharge."

He worked his jaw. His medical training told him that it was what he needed to do, before his body went into a forced stasis from all of the strain. She was right. He couldn't tend to his injuries, but he needed to rest. Backlash couldn't, though. Not with her so close and perfectly fine, touching him and probably watching him very carefully.

She seemed to understand, because she shifted back a little to give him some space, though keeping both hands on his leg. She asked, an odd note to her voice, "Backlash...why did you save me?"

Backlash racked his processor for an answer, asking himself the same thing. Really, it had been more of a reflex. Once he saw the spilled energon pooling towards the sparks, he knew it was over. He could have dropped right then and expanded the shield, left her outside. Then he wouldn't have had to deal with her anymore. He went to her instead, risking those last few seconds to get to her and protect her as well.

"I've been thinking about it since I found you and I just can't figure out why you'd do that for me." She moved again. He felt the brush of her armor against his shins and then she was sitting on the floor at his feet. She crossed her arms over his undamaged leg, leaning against him lightly. "I was the reason the ship blew up in the first place, wasn't I?"

"You've been the root of all of my problems since you landed on the moon," He said tonelessly.

"Exactly. Why would you save me if you knew that, after all the times I tried to take the shield or hurt you?"

Which brought him back to wondering why she'd pulled him from the wreckage and given him the shield back. This femme was slowly driving him insane, her actions and her words and all the conflict she was causing inside of him. She patiently waited for him to answer. "I," He began, "I don't know. Why did you save me?"

He felt her shrug, "I don't know. You were just laying there...and at first all I could think about was the shield but then I saw that you weren't moving, and it kinda freaked me the pit out. Then you came back online, but you were damaged, and you were weak, and you couldn't see me. But I could see you, and its the first time I've seen your optics and you were afraid. You're _never _afraid. I couldn't leave you. Just thinking about it-pits, it hurts."

Backlash searched for something in her voice that told him the femme was lying. He paid attention to her posture, but there was no change, no hint that she had a hidden motive behind all of this. There was only honesty. A pained, confused honesty that she didn't even understand herself, and it did something to him.

His spark shifted and pain flared through him, sharp and piercing. He didn't understand. None of this made sense. She was a thief, _just _a thief. She shouldn't be saying these things, or doing these things that were completely flipping every thing he knew. Suddenly all of her other actions, every thing else she'd said and done that didn't make sense came rushing to the front of his processor. Her words the last time she was in the brig, the way her optics had saddened when she gave him the speech about being damaged, when she asked him when was the last time he was happy. _Its been years._

The sense of _understanding _in her gaze when she'd said the words, like she knew exactly what he was feeling every day. The pain and the emptiness rolling chaotically beneath the frayed surface of his spark. All at once, he thought through the past week. Trying to figure her out, trying to find an answer. But there was _nothing. _

"Backlash?" She asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

"Why are you doing this," He whispered, "this was your _chance. _Why would you let it go so easily when all you had to do was take the shield and walk away? This is what you _wanted. _This is what you've been working towards. You wanted my trust. You wanted me to become dependent on you. I did. And you're _still _here."

"I don't know!" She snapped, "Don't you think I've been trying to figure that out myself since we got here?! I have to get that shield, every thing depends on it, but I _couldn't _because of your stupid fragging ridiculously pretty optics and your weakness and the way you put your arm around me-_Primus!_" She jerked away, getting to her feet to stomp noisily away. A few stressful intakes, and she started over, voice strained, "I could have taken it when the burrowers were attacking, too. And I thought about it, I really did. You were recharging, and you weren't waking up any time soon and the burrowers would be a big enough distraction until I got away when you did, but..."

"But?" Backlash pushed.

"I don't know whats wrong with me. No one goes back for me, and I don't go back for anyone...anyone but you...I don't know whats wrong. This hasn't ever happened before."

_Shes telling the truth. _He didn't know what worried him more, the things she was telling him or the fact that she was being completely honest with him. It was picking at him, making his processor ache and his spark wrench harder, causing more pain. She was telling the truth, and it was bothering her just as much as it was bothering him. It was clear in the tone of her voice, and the raw tension in her frame he could practically feel from across the room.

"Jinx," He said. She hesitated before coming back towards him. A hand slid over his arm. "I'll go into stasis soon," He told her, voice soft, "and I don't know when I'll wake again. Shouldn't be longer than twelve hours, but I can't be certain with this sort of damage."

"I'm not leaving this ship," She said, "the doors to the control room still lock. We'll be safe in here."

"Good. I need you to contact the autobots. Are the ship's comm. lines still online?"

She pulled away briefly. He heard fingers tap across keys, then something inside the ship hummed. She came back to him, relief in her voice, "Finally, some luck. They're up." Backlash gave her the code to accessing the base. She repeated it back to him flawlessly, and he nodded to her in approval. Her hands landed on his shoulders, easing him back into the chair, "Rest, Backlash. I'll call them as soon as I get some energon."

He didn't move for a moment, confused out of his processor about things and worried about what would happen after he slipped into stasis. She promised, "I swear I won't try anything on you. No non-consensual groping or grabbing the shield."

Backlash frowned at her, the expression making the scratches on his face sting. Her voice quieted, "Trust me? Please?"

He resisted her for a moment longer before leaning back against the chair. He didn't have a choice but to trust her. A hand ghosted down his arm to squeeze his fingers, "I'll be here when you online."

Uneasily, Backlash settled. Already he could feel his systems shutting down. He let go, forcing himself to stop thinking about her and this mess she'd caused. The pain in his spark followed him, sharp and unforgiving and familiar.

He didn't realize until he was sinking into stasis that it was hope.

* * *

**Hope everyone had a great fourth! Love you all, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**

**Jinx, Backlash, the burrowers, and the story belongs to me. Transformers does not. **


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

She didn't move at first, optics studying him as he went into stasis while her processor worked to analyze everything that had happened tonight. It occurred to her that she should contact the autobots as soon as possible, right now even, but she couldn't bring herself to move away. Not yet. She also realized that she was running out of time. Lockdown had given her a week when she contacted him on Backlash's ship. That had been almost five days ago.

Two days. She had two days left.

An old fear struck her spark and she finally turned away from the scarred mech. She had forty-eight hours to steal the shield, and here she was, helping him and thinking about him and staring at him and not at all trying to actually _take _the shield. Pits, she'd given it back to him. _Why? _Why didn't she just take the shield and run while he was down? Why did she _stop _and _help _him? The mech was even confused. He'd asked her himself, and now her response echoed in her processor.

It was his optics. It had to be. And his face. And his arms...and his scars, and the shape of his armor and his scent and the way he spoke to her so softly when-_Stop it! _Venting sharply, she moved away from him to stand in front of the controls. Her hands hovered over the keys, thinking of the code he'd given her to contact base. She hesitated. Did she really want to call the autobots? Wouldn't that just make this mess even bigger? It would be impossible to get the shield if she did, even if the mech was too damaged to stop her. She'd gotten into it with a lot of autobots, and she knew that not one of them had forgotten.

If they showed up on the moon, they wouldn't let her out of their sight.

But the mech was damaged, and he couldn't pull self repairs. The thought of just grabbing the shield and leaving him, broken and alone, here on the moon...it was painful. Suddenly she found herself wondering just when exactly she had started to care for the mech. Wasn't he kind of like her enemy? She was supposed to be taking advantage of his weakness, not worrying about it. _Primus, _she'd known him for a week almost. What was she _doing_?

She was always on the move, she never stayed in one place longer than absolutely necessary, and she _never _got close to _anyone. _That was how she'd survived all of these years on her own. She needed no one. She wanted no one. She was perfectly fine on her own and she didn't need some ridiculously beautiful, scarred, quiet, hard-headed mech around. All she needed was the fragging shield on his back. She should just pry it out of his armor and throw him out now while he was unconscious.

Instead, her fingers landed on the keys and she accessed her ship's comm. lines and punched in the autobots' number. She straightened, crossing her arms over her chest plates as the screen dimmed and the computer pinged softly. She turned her head to look at the mech, completely still. Now would be the perfect time to steal the shield, but she wasn't going to. He had trusted her, even though it was forced, and it had taken her days to get to this point. Suddenly earning his trust was just as important as taking the shield.

The pinging continued until her call was answered, and the screen flickered as the image of a couple of autobots popped up. She blinked, recognizing one of them. She smiled brightly, and greeted, "Hi there, Prowl!"

The mech jumped. The other looked back and forth between them. Prowl said, voice almost dripping with disdain, _"Jinx. I was told that you had crash landed on the moon."_

"You were told right." She nodded, "I didn't know you were on Earth! Hows the weather down there?"

_"Mild." _He said. _"Why have you contacted us?"_

"What is it with you autobots and despising me?" She asked, still smiling. She folded her arms across her chest, "Its not like I slipped into your ship and stole your best blasters or anything."

His blue optics narrowed. _"Odd, thats exactly how I remember our last encounter." _She gave him her best innocent look. The mech wasn't amused, _"Why are you contacting base."_

Her smile faded as her thoughts once again turned to the mech in stasis a few steps away. She glanced at him, questioning her actions. He was just a mech. A freaking gorgeous mech, but just a mech. And he was in her way. She needed the shield, and now was her chance to get it. He was in stasis, unable to defend himself if she decided to wrestle the shield from his back armor. Her optics trailed over his black armor, marred with some of the worst scarring she'd ever seen. _Take the shield. Take it now. Tell them you dialed a wrong number or something. Just do it._

Instead, she looked back at the screen. The two autobots were staring at her, waiting for a response. "I guess Backlash probably told you I was here, huh?"

_"He did."_

"Well hes the reason why I'm calling." She held Prowl's gaze, "something happened. Some burrowers got into the ship, ended up blowing it up with us inside." The autobots' expressions shifted as she spoke. Prowl became concerned, his friend in the background started panicking. "We're both okay, but he's damaged, and he needs medical assistance as soon as possible."

_"Is he still online?! Where is he!" _The one in the background pushed forward, blue optics wide. _"Is he aware, in pieces, whole or what?!"_

_ "He's in stasis, isn't he?" _Prowl cut in, interrupting the other, _"or else he'd be making this call himself."_

She nodded slowly, "He is."

_"Pits that mech always gets himself in trouble like this,_" The other autobot threw his arms up in the air and stomped off, _"I'm going to find Flashback."_

_ "Hurry, Hotshot." _Prowl distracted himself with tapping out commands or comm. line codes on the computer. _"Do you know the extent of his damage?"_

"He's blind," She said, "can't see a thing. He said something about his back struts being damaged, and a knee joint. He had a hard time walking."

_"Do you know how to operate the space bridge?"_

She blinked owlishly at him. "The _what_?"

He paused to look up at her again, optics narrowed like he was being forced to share a secret with his enemy. _"Backlash didn't tell you."_

"Tell me? About a space bridge? Uh, no. He failed to mention that." She vented, "A fragging space bridge?! Where the pit is that at?" The mech didn't say a thing about any kind of bridge. A space bridge, on the moon? Her processor raced, automatically thinking of all the advantages she could gain from it. A free trip to earth, whenever she got the shield...or a free trip anywhere else in the galaxy if she didn't. But where was it?

_"Its there on the moon," _Prowl said, voice suspicious, _"Backlash's family discovered it a few months ago."_

"Okay, where is it?"

_"I don't know. I've never seen it myself, but Backlash knows."_

"And that helps how? The mech is in stasis. He's not moving for another twelve hours."

_"You have a reputation for finding anything thats of use to you. I thought that you might have located it on your own."_

"Nope. I didn't have a clue until you said something. So are you going to send help or not?"

_"Yes. I was hoping that you knew of the space bridge so we could transport him here within the hour, but seeing as you don't, we have to prepare a transport to bring him here." _

Which mean that Backlash would have to wait for treatment. The realization bothered her, and she straightened, "How long?"

_"A day or two at most." _

"Pits." She vented quietly, "What if he gets worse or something?"

_"We have no choice but to deal with it when the transport arrives on the moon."_

"Is there something I can do? I'm not a medic, but I can still do _something, _right?"

He studied her, silent. She was about to yell at him when a third mech hurried into the room. This one appeared older than the others, and there was an intense frown on his face. Prowl stepped aside when he came up to the screen. Narrowed blue optics fixed on her. She asked, "Who are you?"

_"Ratchet, head of the autobot med bay,"_ He said, _"where is he?"_

"In stasis right now," She said. Jinx described his injuries while the medic nodded, taking note of everything she said. "I made him swallow some energon before he passed out, but I couldn't do anything else because I don't have the training."

_"The damage doesn't sound life threatening. What concerns me is his blindness, its possible that he damaged the sensory wiring in his processor. If he did, it will be difficult to repair, but not impossible. This isn't the worst he's suffered."_

"I've seen the scars," She said quietly. "Shockwave got him with the fusion cannon, didn't he?"

A mildly impressed look crossed his face, _"Yes, and it hardly slowed him down. Before he even finished recovering, he carried out a rescue mission then assisted in the final battle against Cyclonus' decepticons."_

Somehow, that didn't surprise her. "Is there something I can do to help him?" She repeated, hoping that he would answer her and not just stand there staring like she grew two heads. Prowl was still watching her like that, standing behind the medic.

_"Without training, you've done all you can for him just by getting him out of the open and giving him energon to consume. Stay close to him when he comes back online, he doesn't react well to waking in strange places. It won't help that hes blind, either."_

She nodded, "Its not like I got anywhere important to go." _Not for two more days, anyway. _She ground her dentals when she realized that waiting for the autobots may take up the rest of her time before she had to take the shield.

_"His family must be notified. Can you be contacted through this channel?"_

"Yes." She answered, focusing on the medic again.

_"We'll contact you when the transport departs. Until then, stay close and keep him calm."_

She rolled her optics at him, "Sounds simple enough. Keep the blind, injured mech calm while hes trapped in a foreign ship with a femme that he doesn't trust."

The medic cut her a sharp look, _"Just do it, youngling."_

She glared back, "Fine. Just get your bags packed and fly your afts up here already." With that said, she closed the link. The monitor flickered off, and her ship filled with silence. She turned to fix her gaze on the mech, asking herself for perhaps the hundredth time just _why _this was all happening. She walked towards him as quietly as she could, leaning down to study him more closely now that he was unconscious.

He really was a good looking mech. His height, shape, and features were all attractive...marred only by the thick blanket of scars that covered him head to toe-plates. Why hadn't he taken care of them? Jinx had a few bad scars of her own, though they were barely visible since she'd spent months keeping them clean and patching over them until they smoothed out.

Frowning, she straightened and crossed her arms. "You're a real mess, you know that?" She told him. She stood there in the quiet for a moment, just looking at him. Then she turned and walked away a few steps to sit down with her back to the wall. She could feel exhaustion setting in. Shoving down all of the questions running rampant through her processor, she slowed her intakes and let it take her into a deep recharge.

Jinx came online hours later, frame tensing as her systems booted. She blinked a few times before she focused on the pilot's chair. Her spark seized when she realized it was empty.

Climbing to her feet, Jinx scanned the interior of the ship. Before she was even fully awake, her processor was cycling through questions. Where was he? When had he left? How far did he get? She called out, "Backlash?!"

The ship was dark, so she didn't see him at first. He was leaning against the wall across the room, the soft red glow of his optics turning in her direction. She nearly scrambled for him, "Pits, mech! What are you doing?"

"You're here," He said, voice quieter than usual.

She blinked owlishly at him, "Of course I'm here. I told you I wouldn't leave, didn't I? I was just recharging..." She reached out to touch his arm, "what are you doing?"

"I needed distraction."

She raised her optic ridges at him, "So you got up and strained your injuries?"

"You didn't respond. I thought you had left."

Jinx moved closer, shifting her hand to his back. Studying him, she noticed that he was leaning to take weight off of his damaged leg, bent almost oddly into the metal paneling to ease the pain in his back. "I didn't. Now get over here and sit down before you really hurt yourself."

His optics narrowed, that same hint of fear in them. Jinx moved to stand against him so she could help him back to the chair. Cautiously, he raised the arm closest to her and braced it over her shoulders. Her spark did something weird when he shifted to lean on her instead of the wall. Jinx guided him back to the chair and the control panel, "How exactly were you distracting yourself?"

"Counting steps."

She blinked, helping him sit down. "Doing what?"

"Counting steps," He repeated.

"Okay...what does that mean?" Jinx looked over him, looking for any new damage. There wasn't any.

"Counting steps is a way to learn surroundings when you have no light. So many steps one way to a wall, and so many steps the other. Its a way to...see."

Jinx straightened to hunt down another cube of energon. Her optics brightened when she saw him tense when she lifted her hand from his shoulder, breaking contact. _That's...new. _A theory came together in her head, processor analyzing everything that had happened and been said since the ship exploded. _He doesn't like contact, but hates being blind. He can't see anything... _Curious, she brought a hand back down to his arm, fingers stroking over rough scarring. A slight easing of his frame, hardly noticeable but there all the same. He was uncomfortable but accepting, even wanting, the contact.

She grinned, her spark flaring with triumph. It was interesting, and by far the the _best _reaction she'd pulled out of him even if it was a small one. It also made her realize just how much the blindness was effecting him. Her smile dimmed, suddenly remembering his earlier words; _"You didn't respond. I thought you had left."_

He had tried to speak to her, and she had been recharging. Her voice softened, "Backlash?"

"Yes?"

"How long have you been up?"

"A few hours at most."

A few hours of complete silence while he was completely blind. No wonder he'd been up moving around when she found him. Wincing, she whispered, "I'm sorry."

"You needed the rest. Don't apologize."

"Still. I bet you were freaking out, huh?" She settled on the floor beside him again, crossing her arms over his good leg.

"As I said...I needed distraction." He changed subjects on her, "did you contact the autobots?"

"Yep." She nodded, "They said they wouldn't get here for a few days."

"Thats what I thought."

Jinx brushed her palm over his leg plating, finding a particularly rough scar. She traced the jagged edge, eying it as she tried to think of what weapon had made it. "Why didn't you tell me there was a space bridge on the moon."

She felt the tension in his legs in reaction. "The space bridge?"

"Yeah, some stiff named Prowl told me about it-" More tension, though she imagined it was from irritation. "-and wanted to know if I knew where it was. So if you could just tell me where it is, that would help a lot and I could get you down there in a few hours." She titled her head up to see his expression, half expecting it to be closed off.

His optics were still narrowed, looking down at her unseeingly. His mouth was turned down in a slight frown. His jaw was clenched. She wondered briefly if he knew how easy he was to read right now. He answered slowly, "It's deep underground in the caverns."

Jinx vented sharply, "Of course it is. And you're the only one that can find it, right?"

"My family can as well, but no one else knows its exact location."

"I'm guessing you can't just give me directions?"

"Why are you so fixated on it."

"Because you're blind and probably in a lot of pain," Jinx rolled her optics, "why else?"

When he didn't answer, she sighed, "Would you just trust me already? Maybe, just this once, I don't want to hurt you."

"Nothing you do is without a purpose," He started.

"You're right. The purpose is to save your aft. Why is that so hard to believe?"

"You've spent the last week trying to attack or trick me into lowering my guard. You tell me why its so hard to believe."

Jinx glared at him, "You are the most hard-headed, confounding, brilliant, ridiculously attractive mech I've ever met. If I was still out for the slagging shield, don't you think I would have grabbed it by now?"

He stilled and his optics became distant, thinking hard about what she'd said. Jinx tried her best not to think it through herself. _I'll get it next time he's in recharge, _she swore. She needed to change the subject. "Where did this scar come from?"

"What?"

She pressed her palm to the mark she'd been tracing, "This one. Where did it come from?"

"Its not important-"

"Why are you being rude? Just tell me. You want distraction, I'm trying to keep you distracted."

"A burrower. Most of my scars come from them."

"Pits, what did he hit you with?"

"She." He corrected, an edge to his voice.

Jinx stopped, staring up at him. "'She'? What did 'she' hit you with?"

"Claws."

Jinx frowned, edging closer. "Those must have been some big freaking claws."

"They were."

"Were?"

"Shes offline now." The note in his voice was sharper. This was something he didn't want to talk about-she could see it in his gaze. It confused her. She had seen the burrowers. They were an insane, mindless bunch of skeletal mechs and femmes. Yet he made it sound like this one was different. Whoever 'she' was, she was important.

And she was gone.

From the glaze of pain in his optics, she could tell that the loss was recent. He hadn't gotten through it yet. Jinx felt the scar beneath her fingers, carefully mapping out the harsh mark in her processor as she processed all of this. "Why did she attack you?"

"She didn't remember who I was." There was something broken in his voice. Jinx dropped it. She took one of his hands and pulled it to her own armor. He tensed, "What are you-"

It was old, and she had managed to wear down the ugly edges over the years, but she found the scar easily on her shoulder. She slid his palm over it so he felt it, "This one came from an insecticon. He caught me with a pincher, nearly cut my arm clean off. Then I shot him in the faceplates."

She smiled when she saw how uncomfortable he was with this. He wasn't pulling away, though. He spoke slowly, tone suspicious, "What is this?"

"I just told you what it was."

"I meant what are you doing."

She shrugged, "I don't really know. I thought it would be a good way to pass time until those morons on earth get up here. You told me about one of your scars, I told you about one of mine. It's your turn again." She used her other hand to touch the worst of his scars, the one on his side. She knew it came from Shockwave's fusion cannon, but she wanted to hear him say it. "This one?"

"Shockwave."

She waited for an explanation, but he wasn't offering anything else. "That was enlightening."

He made an expression that looked a lot like he was rolling his optics, "The decepticons seized the autobot base on earth, using the burrowers as an advantage against the autobots. I was trying to keep them all safe, and in the middle of it all I was shot down."

"Ouch."

"It was painful, but the scars wouldn't have been so bad if Cyclonus hadn't caught me in the last battle."

"Cyclonus?" She squinted at him.

"Yes."

"What did he do to you?"

"He tried to turn me inside out."

Jinx worked her jaw, then lifted his hand to her chest plates where her biggest scars were. "Seacons." She bit out, holding her breath as old, painful memories came back to the front of her processor. "Caught me looting their base. They put me in their brig and did..._things_."

"'Things'?"

"Bad things," She clarified, "things I'm still trying to forget about. Lets just say that I knew something they didn't, and they were willing to do anything to know it, too...and enjoy themselves while they were at it. You ever been forced into merging?"

His fingers twitched beneath hers. He answered, "No."

"Consider yourself lucky. Its _not _fun."

His voice seemed to soften, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's all in the past. You're not the one that hurt me." Her optics focused on his again, "you've never hurt me."

"I've come close to it," Backlash muttered, "several times."

She grinned at that. "So I am getting underneath all of that thick armor, huh?"

"You're a nuisance."

"Thats not nice." She picked out another scar on his frame and touched it.

"Burrowers, when I was young. I don't remember the details other than they got into our ship before we adjusted security to react to pick up their energon signatures."

Nodding, Jinx guided his hand to her side. "An autobot designated Drift gave me a warning cut there when he caught me following him."

"You were caught often, weren't you?"

"At first, yeah. It wasn't until I went through a couple of near-death experiences that I figured out how to actually stay hidden." Her hand moved elsewhere, to a gouge on his shoulder. "Here?"

He told her, slowly relaxing as he fell into the routine. They went on for what felt like hours, exchanging stories. She ran out of scars long before he did, but he didn't seem to care. Talking was a distraction, even if some of the stories behind the scars bothered him. He had the softest voice she'd heard, even if it was toneless. She realized that she liked it. When he would stop, the quiet grew too heavy.

Eventually he slipped back into recharge. This time she stayed close, trying to her best to stay awake in case the autobots tried to call back. She leaned against the mech's legs slowly, resting her chin on her folded arms. Her optics were still on his face.

_What the pit am I doing? _She asked herself, _whats happening here? _Her optics narrowed, shifting to the shield on his back. She had less than two days.

* * *

**SORRY GUYS. We went so long without a lot of work until like a month ago and now it just keeps flooding in and we're out working all day every day. I can't even remember the last time I had more than a day off. ANYWAY...yeah. **

**Kinda gets crappier towards the ending of the chapter, but thats because the beginning was written before we started working our asses off. the rest was written over a series of nights anywhere from ten to one in the morning. Lots of fun. Yeah. **

**Backlash and Jinx belong to me, as well as the burrowers and the story. Transformers does not. **

**Love to you all, I hope you enjoyed reading. :) I'll try to update sooner next time. **


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

She was close by when he onlined again. Backlash held still for a moment, stamping down on the instinctive urge to toss her away. He just barely remembered who she was and where they were before he did so, and slowly made himself relax.

The femme was leaning against him, both arms folded over his legs. She didn't move other than the subtle rise and fall of her side and chest plating with every intake. She was in recharge, he realized. She seemed completely content to just sit there against him. The closeness was still threatening, but he found that he was gradually growing used to having her around. He wasn't sure how he felt about it. The empty blackness pressed on him, and he felt the familiar fear rising in his chest. He forced it down, making himself focus on her instead.

He couldn't understand her.

She had made it clear that she only cared for the shield. She had schemed and attacked and tried to distract him to get it. Now, when he was unable to defend himself, blind and in completely new territory, she was suddenly more interested in helping him. What was her motive for this? Even if they failed almost every time, she always had a plan. That was something he learned early on-this femme was constantly thinking, constantly watching and analyzing every thing he did. She still was, he knew it, but she wasn't trying to use his weakness against him.

His spark burned with pain. The hairline cracks left in it from Viral's offlining throbbed like open wounds. It was all from hope, something he hadn't felt in months, something he was sure he'd never feel again. Something he shouldn't feel anymore. Traitorous thoughts were beginning to take form. What if she _was _trying to help him? _No. _She was a thief. She cared about one thing, and that was taking the shield. He shouldn't trust her, but he did because he had to, and all this time he'd been waiting for the moment she'd strike.

She hadn't.

Backlash's fingers twitched when he remembered feeling the almost soft outline of old scars on her armor. He hadn't even known that she had them. Every one of her scars came from a bad encounter with decepticons and autobots alike. He knew that she was damaged, but the things she told him gave him an idea of how deep the scars really were. The Seacons. Predacons, seekers, wreckers. A mech designated Lockdown had given her several beatings. He was the cause of many scars, and there had been a sharp edge to her voice when she told Backlash about them. The mech must have tortured her for days on end, and that was between all the times she'd been captured by others and been forced into merging or interfacing.

She spoke about all of these things so easily, too, almost gladly like telling him was lifting some massive weight from her shoulders. Backlash couldn't wrap his processor around it. She confused him more than anyone else had before. Did she want the shield or did she want something else? What the pit was she trying to accomplish by doing all of this? Could she still possibly think that she could get close enough to undo him? Why would she save him? Why would she care?

Her frame tensed. She shifted against him, turned her head, and muttered, "Are you awake again?"

"Yes," Backlash answered.

"How long?"

"Ten minutes." He answered smoothly.

"Recharge some more," She ordered, wiggling around, "pits mech, you just survived an explosion. Stop waking up so much and just rest."

"Easier said than done," He paid close attention to her posture. She was relaxed, frame almost draped over him like she owned him. It was irritating and confusing, and he just couldn't figure out _why _she was doing all of this. He'd asked her, more than once, and he still didn't know.

"You know you're staring at me, right?" She mumbled, on the verge of slipping back into recharge.

Backlash clenched his jaw but didn't shift his attention elsewhere. Her arms moved, one hand trailing down his calf. She was looking for more scars, and he found himself wondering why she was so interested in them. What could possibly be so fascinating about his old wounds?

"Are you hungry?" She asked.

"No."

"You're still staring. Whats on your processor?"

"You're not going to take the shield, are you." He said suddenly, the realization hitting him like a blow to the gut. "You've had countless chances now, and you haven't taken any of them."

A subtle tension in her frame. Her hands stilled on his armor. She said, "Maybe I'm just too exhausted. You know, I did haul your heavy aft all the way back to my ship."

Backlash frowned slightly, "When you could have just left me. You _had _the shield in your hands, and I wasn't even aware of it." Despite his efforts, his confusion became clear in his voice. "But you gave it back to me."

"Maybe this isn't about the shield anymore." The femme whispered.

"Then what is it about."

"Why are you alone up here?" She countered, desperate to change the subject, "this rock might be your home, but why are you alone?"

Backlash narrowed his optics, "You're avoiding the question."

"I don't _know_ what its about," She snapped irritably, "I just...like you, I guess."

Backlash tensed. "_Why._"

"Because you're the first mech I've ever met that hasn't tried to hurt me. You're the first mech I've ever met that doesn't raise his voice, and you're the first one I've met that can control himself so freaking well." Her voice became softer, almost inaudible, "Do you know how long it's been since I've been able to actually touch or talk to anyone without being forced into submission or attacked? It's always been like that, for as long as I can remember. You changed that."

A shuddering, deep intake like she was calming her nerves, "And I know you hate it, being touched, and it was the reason why I started doing it in the first place, but you deal with it. You put up with just about every thing I do and I kinda started to like it, just being close to someone. Being able to touch and talk without being afraid. Pits, I'm so tired of always being afraid."

Backlash's spark shifted. He suddenly felt like the time he'd been caught in Scourge's hands months ago in the final battle. Helpless and unable to break free, trapped. He didn't like this. He didn't like any of it. He didn't like the raw emotion in her voice or the way she inched closer to him. He didn't like this false hope in his spark and he didn't like the things her words were making him think of. He didn't trust her. He couldn't, and he kept telling himself over and over again. This was spinning out of control.

Her words reached him, pulling him from his thoughts, "What are you thinking, mech?"

He was thinking about her scars, how worn down they were. How many days had she spent sitting alone in her ship scrubbing and buffing down the edges until they smoothed out, like she was trying to erase the very memories of receiving them. It struck him then that she was like him, she couldn't face those memories. He was thinking about her optics and they way the would grow distant and dim whenever she was in the brig or pinned, the brief flash of fear before complete, automatic submission. How many times had she been caught and forced into something until it wore down the instinct to fight, and built up the reflex to submit.

And Backlash wondered...was her spark cracked, too? He wished he could see her now, see her expression. Then maybe he could begin to understand.

He almost jumped when her fingers touched his arm. "Please talk to me," She said, "I just told you something important and you're just sitting there staring at me like a bump on a log."

"I can't trust you," Backlash said without thinking.

"Yes you can. You've _been _trusting me, mech." She paused and shifted, straightening so that she was no longer resting her arms over his leg. Her voice was soft again, coaxing, "Let me in, Backlash. Tell me something, I'm not going to hurt you."

"If I let you in," Backlash bristled, "you'll destroy me."

"If you don't let someone in, you'll destroy yourself."

* * *

He looked like a wild animal that had been trapped. If he was penned, Jinx was sure he'd be pacing the fence. He was so uncomfortable with this, and it was clear in the tension in his frame. He was confused, and exhausted, and trying very hard to think every thing through. She wished that he would just stop for a moment and _trust _her.

Pits, he was beautiful. Even the damage, the broken parts of his processor and spark she could see in his red optics. The deep scars that criss-crossed all over his armor. There was a sharp, old fear in his optics that made something shift deep in her spark. Suddenly he looked ancient and young at once, carrying the weight of old horrors on his shoulders and fearing the possibility of change, of having to grow or even heal. He was so carefully guarded and vulnerable at once, and the depth of his optics made her spark soften. He was so horribly afraid. Whether it was of opening up or trusting or just getting close, she didn't know. All she wanted to do was help him.

The shield was dancing on the edge of her thoughts, but it wasn't as important anymore. She needed this mech to trust her, to open up to her.

"I have my family," He said slowly, "I have let them into my spark."

"Oh yeah?" she raised her optic ridges at him even though he couldn't see, "and what did you tell them when you said you'd stay up here on the moon by yourself?"

"That I would watch the burrowers and guard the earth."

"Is that all?"

Silence met her question.

"You stayed up here because you wanted to be alone." She told him, "and why would you want to be alone?"

"This is _not_ important-"

"Its _is _important," She huffed, "pits, Backlash, just _talk _to me. I've been spilling my spark out to you since we got in this fragging ship. Its your turn, now." His jaw clenched, but he didn't say anything. She pushed gently, "Is it the femme? The one with the claws that couldn't remember you. She meant something, didn't she? She was _close _to you."

In a liquid smooth motion, the mech was suddenly up out of the chair and making his way across the room. Blinking, Jinx turned to look after him. She had been expecting something, but not that. Backlash was tense, pacing towards the wall furthest from her. She half expected him to just plow right into it, but he stopped a foot away from the wall.

"You can tell me," She said, keeping her voice quiet.

"I don't _need _to tell you," He snarled, voice low and filled with warning.

"No, you don't. I just want to know."

He turned on her, red optics bright and narrowed, "_Why._"

"Because I want to know why you're like this." She answered, standing up. She stretched her stiff limbs. "I want to know who you are, and how you became who you are."

"Do you take this sort of interest in all of the mechs you try to steal from?"

Jinx glared at him, "Now whos avoiding the question? Don't even try to turn this back on me." More silence. With a soft vent, she said, "What? Are you ignoring me now?"

When he still wouldn't answer, Jinx crossed her arms and shifted her hips, "You can't block me out, Backlash. Maybe you mastered shutting out everything you don't want to remember or think about, but I'm not going away."

"You will soon." He turned back towards her.

Jinx stared back, once again reminded of her deal with Lockdown. She was running out of time. Every moment spent arguing with this mech was an opportunity wasted. If she didn't get the shield, it would cost her life. The thought weighed on her, yet still she could not bring herself to attack. "Is that what you want? For me to go away so you can keep pining away on this cold rock, staying busy with maintenance and inventing and patrolling so you don't have time to think about anything else?"

"I want peace," He said, tone biting.

"Don't we all?" She paused, then said, "I've been looking for it all my life. When you find it, do me a favor and let me know, alright?"

Her ship's comm channel chose that moment to go off, pinging softly in the quiet that followed her words. Jinx moved towards her computer, recognizing the request code as an autobot channel. Without looking at him, she said, "You're big, bright friends are calling."

Backlash moved towards her. Jinx lingered long enough to open the request then backed away, optics shifting back and forth between Backlash and an extremely worried looking group of autobots on the other side. Relief flooded their expressions when they saw him. Backlash went through what had happened on the ship and described his injuries when asked, then reassured them three or four times that he was alright before they told him that the ship was leaving in an hour.

When they were done talking and the link was broken, Backlash leaned against the console and slowly scanned his optics across the room. It took a moment before she realized that he was trying to find her. Stepping back towards the computer, she curled an arm around his back carefully. Backlash shifted his attention to her. He tensed slightly when she embraced him, mindful of his back struts.

"You can trust me," She repeated, "I won't turn on you, mech."

"Every thing you've done says otherwise."

"So dragging you to my ship and giving you energon is turning on you?"

He ground his dentals, "Let me go."

Jinx shook her head, "No."

He tensed further, becoming rigid. "Jinx."

Jinx squeezed him tighter, resting her face against his side. The texture of his scars were rough on her cheek plate, but somehow comforting. "Tell me something important to you, and I'll let you go."

She could almost hear him grinding his dentals. The armor pressed against her shifted over flexing cables. He managed to stand up straighter, body drawn tight. Minutes passed, and the mech said nothing. Jinx shrugged when he refused to speak, and snuggled closer. He was always so cool, and he felt safe and strong against her. She was happy to just stand here and make him suffer for hours if it meant staying this close to him.

Finally, he said, voice so quiet it was nearly inaudible, "Her designation was Lotus."

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed. Much love. **

**Backlash, Jinx, the burrowers and the story belongs ot me. Transformers does not.**


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

The words hung in the air, holding so much weight they seemed to press on her. The admission was forced, something he had made himself say out loud. He was completely still against her, frame filled with tension, like he was trying his hardest to hold himself together. Jinx didn't let him go at first, face still pressed into his side plating. Her processor worked to analyze his words, his tone and his posture.

His voice was soft, but full of emotion. A whisper layered in pain and sadness. It made her spark twist painfully in her chest. She swallowed, then repeated, handling the name with care, "Lotus?"

A moment of quiet, then another forced response. "Yes."

Jinx lifted her face and slowly looked up. His expression was smoothed out into the familiar emotionless mask, but his optics were dim. Jinx knew then that this femme, whoever she was, was somehow the source of his scars. Jinx softened her voice, "Who was she to you?"

His body tightened further, gears nearly grinding with the effort. Expecting to be attacked, Jinx loosened her hold and dropped an arm with hopes that he wouldn't. One hand remained on his back though, so he knew where she was. "You can tell me, mech."

"She was my friend," He said.

Jinx stilled, optics focused on his face. "And she turned on you?"

"She didn't have a choice."

Jinx raised an optic ridge at him. "How could she not have a choice?"

He shifted to move away. Jinx followed, "Everyone has a choice, mech."

"Not her." Backlash turned his optics in her direction. "I've told you what you wanted to hear."

"Not all of it." Jinx poked him in the chest armor, "what happened to her?"

His jaw clenched. "She offlined."

"I know that. Tell me something I don't." When he didn't answer, Jinx vented softly. "Is that it? Are you just going to shut me out now?"

The mech was silent. Jinx took his arm and tried to guide him back towards the chair, "Well if thats all I'm going to get out of you, fine. You need to rest now, mech. You keep pushing yourself and you'll end up in another stasis lock." He resisted briefly, then allowed her to herd him back to the pilot's seat.

Backlash sat down. Jinx remained standing close beside him, trying to understand the mech and what he'd just told her. She rested a hand on his shoulder, fingers tracing his scars. Long minutes of silence passed until she asked, "Whats it like?"

"Whats what like," Backlash answered, tilting his head slightly in her direction.

"Having a friend."

The mech paused, a look of confusion taking over his expression. "You don't know?"

Rolling her optics, Jinx started, "I don't know if you've noticed or not, but in my line of work, there isn't a lot of friendly faces. I've never had friends, Backlash. Just enemies." She caught the look of shock that crossed his face before it changed into one of thought.

"All the times you were caught and tortured," He began slowly, "and there was no one to help you escape or recover?"

"Nope." Jinx lowered her optics to the scars on his leg armor. Her hand found one of the sword sheath's hidden there. She traced the outline of it, "I've only had someone help me once, a long time ago when I was in my second frame." Her optics narrowed when she thought of her sister, "I haven't seen her since. Then theres you...and you've helped me twice, now. Other than you two, I've had to find my own way out of trouble."

"Your family?"

Jinx snorted, "What family? My femme creator was murdered for not bearing mechs. My mech creator kept my sister and I locked up until we were too old to be controlled. She helped me escape and then vanished."

The ship fell silent. Jinx raised her optics to his face, watching his expression. He was thinking again. Jinx let him be for a few seconds before saying, "You never answered my question."

"Its not exactly something that can be explained," Backlash answered tonelessly.

"Try."

A near inaudible vent of irritation left him, "You're never quite alone. No matter what has happened, you can turn to them."

Jinx crossed her arms over his leg and rested her chin over them as she thought through his words carefully. "Isn't that what its supposed to be like to have a family, too?"

"Yes. Except you almost can't get away from them."

Jinx smiled at the disdain in his voice, like he was speaking from experience. She said softly, "You're lucky, mech."

"In a way, you're luckier than I am."

Jinx blinked owlishly at him, "Hows that?"

"You are alone, you have no one that your spark knows of, so you don't feel it when they're gone."

Jinx stared at him, clenching her jaw. Her optics lowered from his face, tracing down his armor to the ugly scars left from 'Lotus'' claws. "Do you ever wish that your spark knew no one? That you were alone?"

"More often than I should."

Jinx frowned at him, once again trying her best to understand the mech.

* * *

Jinx jerked to awareness when she heard something pound heavily on the wall of her ship. She became rigid against Backlash's legs in the darkness of her ship. Backlash awoke a breath later, entire frame tensing as he leaned forward to rise before he was even fully online. Jinx had enough sense to grab his armor and push him back down, "Don't, mech. You'll strain yourself."

Before he could argue, Jinx rose. Listening, she heard voices over the banging, then a familiar one shouted, "_Open the frag up!_"

Jinx blinked, looking down at Backlash when he vented softly. She couldn't tell if it was in relief or irritation. He said, voice soft, "They're here."

"Is your brother always so loud?" Jinx asked as she started towards the doorway.

"This is quiet for him," Backlash answered.

Jinx found that hard to believe, but she let it go. Reaching the key pad, she tapped in the security code to the door. The ship hummed in recognition and the door shuttered its way up. Before it was even fully open, a big blue fist came up underneath the scorched metal and punched it upwards, making sparks fly. Jinx's optics widened as the big blue mech forced his way inside. Behind him, someone scolded, "Flashback! Is that really necessary, son?"

Jinx was on him the moment he stepped inside, "What the pit do you think you're doing?! Just busting into my ship like you own it?"

"_You," _He snarled, pointing an accusing finger at her, "you're the little smart-mouthed broad that damaged our ship!"

"Damaged your ship?! What do you call this!" She motioned wildly towards the ruined door way as a couple of other autobots stuck their heads inside.

"You're freaking shitting me, right? Have you _seen _what shape this piece of scrap metal is in?"

Jinx huffed and advanced on him. She poked him in the chest plates, glaring at him, "It may be in pieces but its still _my _ship!"

"Thats _enough!_" One of the autobots shouted as he stepped inside. Jinx spun towards him to tell him to back the pit up and came face to face with a near-perfect clone of Backlash's brother. Jinx stopped when he turned his attention to her and asked in a calm voice, "Are you Jinx?"

"Yes," She said, crossing her arms. "Who are you?"

"I am Jolt, Backlash's mech creator."

Jinx stared at him, optics wide as she tried to process his words. Her optics swept down his frame. A little below average height, a solid build. Blue armor that was undeniably autobot. Despite his wider build, he had a stream-lined look about him. How did _this_ father the tall, black, all _decepticon, _jagged mech taking refuge in her ship? 'Jolt' motioned towards the other blue mech, "I apologize for my other son, Flashback."

All Jinx could do was point and repeat, "_You _are Backlash's creator?"

A look of understanding crossed his face, and he explained quickly, "Backlash and his sister take after their mother. Where is he?"

Flashback had already pushed past them and was moving towards Backlash, "Hes back here!"

Jinx stepped aside for the mech to move past. Other autobots entered. A yellow one she recognized as Ratchet from her call a few days ago. Prowl was right behind him, and once he saw her his optics never left her. Jinx wiggled her fingers at him in greeting, "Hello, Prowl. Nice to see you again."

"I wish I could say the same," Prowl said, a note of disdain in his voice. "How is he?"

"Fine as far as I can tell," Jinx said, looking back at the pilot's chair, now surrounded by fussing, bright colored autobots. Backlash was still and mostly quiet, only speaking up when his mech creator asked him about his condition. Jinx hung out near the doorway, dividing her attention between listening to the mechs talk and watching for burrowers.

Ratchet and Jolt ended up shooing Flashback away so they could do repairs. Jinx watched him as he moved towards the back, "Watch were you step, Wide-Load. I don't want you bumping into anything on my 'scrap-metal ship'."

The mech tensed and turned burning blue optics unto her, "I just remembered that I owe you a beat down, broad."

Jinx snorted, "Bring it, dump-truck."

"Femme," Prowl warned, watching her warily. Jinx ignored him, standing her ground as Flashback started towards her. "Flashback, stand down, youngling."

"I don't take orders from you," Flashback said sharply, "And you," He clenched his fists, "you're gonna stop calling me names."

"You're gonna stop being rude to me," Jinx hissed back.

"Or _what_? You won't do anything. Not after we drop your aft in the brig on base."

Jinx tensed, fighting the instinctive fear that rose up in reaction to his threat. She was about to say something particularly nasty to him when she heard Backlash's quiet voice from across the ship, "Calm down, brother."

Jinx glanced at the black mech, optics fixing on his unseeing ones. He was looking in their direction, a slight frown on his face. Flashback vented sharply, crossing his arms, "She started it!"

"It doesn't matter. She could have easily left me to offline in the wreckage, but she didn't." Backlash reasoned, "And it isn't wise to antagonize my brother, Jinx."

"Why? Is he as quick as you are?" Jinx asked, focused back on his brother. "He doesn't look too fast."

Flashback shot her a seething look. "You just keep talking."

"Jinx," Backlash softened his voice, though there was an edge to it now. Jinx clenched her jaw and leaned against the wall of her ship. She didn't say another word until they were helping Backlash out of her ship.

"Its a good walk from here to our vessel," Ratchet said, "and there is still a chance that we may be ambushed by burrowers." His optics landed on Flashback, "You. Keep your optics open and your weapons primed."

Jinx noted that Flashback nodded, opposed to arguing like he had with Prowl. Backlash was shifted to Ratchet so Jolt was free to fight as well. Jolt looked back at Jinx, "Do you have a weapon?"

"Everything but my rifle was lost when I crash landed here." Jinx answered.

"And your rifle?"

Jinx paused, keeping an optic on Backlash and Ratchet as they hobbled past. "I have no idea. I had it when I came to Backlash's ship and then," Jinx thought of her first attempted attack and how wrong it had gone for her. She had dropped her rifle in the control room before the mech dropped her into a stasis. Then she had woke up in the brig...without it. Her gaze focused on Backlash, "You know what, I don't know what happened to it. I bet Backlash does, though."

Backlash caught the slight irritation in her voice and replied with some of his own, "It perished with the ship."

"Which is a fragging mess by the way," Flashback cut in, throwing his hands up in the air. "How the pits did you two manage that?"

"Its a long story," Jinx started.

"Hardly," Backlash countered. "A simple malfunction in the ship brought down our security."

"And you were unable to repair it?" Jolt asked.

"Not before the burrowers took advantage of it. They got into the ship. We fought. In the middle of it all a fire was started, and it lit a leaking line."

"And everything blew up," Jinx finished, nodding.

"Were you able to salvage anything?" Prowl pressed.

"No," Jinx said, "I was too busy trying to find this ridiculous mech. I didn't have time to stop and look through the debris."

"Which brings us to another important topic," Prowl was still staring at her, determined to catch her if she so much as stepped out of line. "what business do you have in this galaxy?"

Jinx made a face at him, "My own. Don't ask nosy questions like that, Prowl. It makes you look too suspicious."

"I _am _suspicious. I cannot understand why you, a famed collector and thief, would burden herself with saving and even caring for a wounded mech."

"Does it matter? He saved my aft, so I saved his, and now we're even."

"That hardly explains your intentions-"

"I have no intentions!" Jinx vented in exasperation, rolling her optics, "what is it with you mechs?! Can't you just believe that I genuinely want to help? Am I really that horrible of a femme?"

"Your reputation speaks for you," Prowl said bitterly, "as well as my previous experience in your company. You are nothing but trouble."

"Whatever reputation you have," Jolt spoke up, meeting her optics, "thank you for taking care of my son. If it wasn't for you, he may not be here now."

The mech held her optics, and Jinx couldn't help but realize how _blue _they were, and how much emotion was in them for that moment. They were the complete opposite of Backlash's vibrant red optics, almost always void of feeling. Again, she wondered how this mech could have possibly sired Backlash. Flashback, definitely, but not Backlash. Then again, he had mentioned his mate, the mother of these two, and how Backlash and his 'sister' had resembled her. What did the mother look like? Was she dark and jagged like Backlash? Were her optics as red and empty? Did she have the scars, the lethal grace, the tall stature?

"You don't have to thank me," She said slowly, coming out of her thoughts, "Like I said, he did the same for me when I first landed on this moon. Hes been good company...for the most part."

Her optics brightened when Backlash muttered, "I wish I could say the same for you."

"Whatever, mech!" She grinned, "I think we get along perfectly well."

"Pits I'm gonna need some high grade after this," Flashback mumbled to himself, shaking his head. "You're going to stay away from my brother from now on, got it?"

Jinx made a show of covering her audios, "I can't hear you, berry-blast!"

"Really? More names?"

"I'm just getting started, fail-whale."

"Thats it! I've freaking had it with you!" Flashback lunged for her.

Jinx stepped smoothly to the side. The mech was fast, but no where near Backlash-fast. Flashback caught himself before he hit the ground and wheeled on her again. Jinx dodged, thrilled that she could actually keep up with this mech. Flashback was less impressed. Curses and insults spilled out of him in angry shouts and snarls.

Jinx hadn't even realized that they had all stopped walking until Flashback's fist came at her face suddenly. In an instant, she knew she couldn't move fast enough to dodge it, and she braced herself for the punch. His knuckles were a breath away from her when Backlash's black hand appeared on his wrist, stopping him mid-strike. Jinx's optics grew round when she realized what had happened. Flashback sputtered in surprise, staring at his brother.

Jinx looked back and forth between them when Flashback all but screamed, "'Lash! _Why _did you-"

"I promised Jinx that I would not harm her so long as she didn't harm me," Backlash explained in his calm voice, "I understand that she is a complete nuisance, but she has yet to do anyone serious injury. Please respect my promise, brother."

Jinx stared at the taller mech, suddenly realizing that he towered over _everyone. _In fact, he was the tallest and leanest of those assembled there, and she had no doubt in her processor that he could trump all of them in a fight. His soft red optics were in Flashback's direction, his grip around the blue mech's arm somehow firm but not commanding. If Flashback really wanted to, he could have broken free and beat her into the ground that moment.

Jinx didn't care.

She was still trying to wrap her processor around the fact that Backlash was _defending _her, and against his own family. It was such a confounding feeling, seeing him standing there and protecting her after an entire life of having to find her own way out of these messes. To actually have someone that cared for her safety, especially a mech with such major trust issues that had been so unreachable before...it did something to her spark. It heated and spun, reacting to _him. _His presence, his voice, and his optics when they shifted to her.

"Didn't I ask you not to antagonize him?" Backlash let go of Flashback's arm when the blue mech stepped back with a huff.

"Um." Jinx swallowed, trying to form a proper response. Her processor was running a thousand different ways, analyzing every little detail of this moment. Questions and theories and feelings and realizations and _Pits, _he was _beautiful. _And he was there, defending her. No mech had ever done that for her. Suddenly, none of them mattered. Just him. Jinx clenched her jaw, trying to get herself under control before she broke out into song and dance in front of the autobots. Her spark was shining, and she found that she couldn't look away from him.

His optic ridges rose to his helm-line. It occurred to Jinx then that he was still waiting for an answer. Clearing her throat, Jinx clasped her hands behind her back and smiled innocently at him, "You did."

"And what did you do?" He pushed.

"Called him more names." She mentally cheered for getting out a coherent statement.

"Unless you want to go to earth in pieces, I'd suggest not doing that."

"Hes so fun to pester, though." Jinx tilted her head to the side, "almost as fun as it is to pester you."

Backlash frowned, his optic ridges drawing down over his blind optics. "Behave," He said, turning away from them to continue limping alongside Ratchet. Jinx watched him move, admiring the grace he had, even as a blind cripple. Her optics shifted away briefly, and she almost cringed when she saw Jolt studying her intensely. There was something odd in the mech's gaze, something that looked a lot like curiosity.

Jinx decided to ignore him. She followed along behind the mechs, optics never leaving Backlash's back. She studied the scars there, their patterns and raw edges slowly becoming familiar to her. A strange feeling overcame her when her spark continued to act up, turning and burning in its casing.

For the first time since she saw it, the shield was completely forgotten, and suddenly she was looking just at the mech. Not his weapons or his skill. Just Backlash, and all of the things that made him who he was. The scars. Isolation. A lifetime of struggling to survive. Broken trust and a deep darkness within. Loyalty to his family and honor in his words. Jinx understood then that he was the rarity, not the weapons he carried, and she wanted him more than any thing else she'd ever set her optics on.

* * *

**BOOM. I'm back, guys! And I've got some serious catching up to do...**

**This chapter has been a major pain in my aft for a long time now. I had to make myself sit down and work on it this past week and it wasn't fun...but I'm satisfied with the end result. I hope you guys enjoyed and that you keep coming back for more. :)**

**Love to you all! Leave a review to tell me what you thought if it pleases you. **

**Backlash and his family, Jinx, the burrowers and the story all belong to me. Transformers does not. **


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Jinx adjusted herself for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. She was uncomfortable, _extremely _uncomfortable, and she didn't know why. The vessel was large enough. It wasn't the biggest she'd ever seen, but it definitely wasn't the smallest. She had space here in her little corner. Each of the mechs had space. Well, most of them.

Her yellow optics lifted to Backlash. The mech was practically crammed between a wall and his brother, who had made it his job to be up Backlash's aft. Backlash didn't look all that thrilled about it, but from the way he accepted it, Jinx had a feeling that this was something that happened often. Jinx looked at the loud-mouthed blue mech. Flashback was fiddling with his fingers and staring up at the ceiling with a scowl on his face. Beside him, Backlash was his usual silent, toneless self. His unfocused optics were dim, and his frame was a little more relaxed than usual. He was exhausted, she realized.

Her optics rested on his face plates, then shifted down to the heavy scarring on his shoulders. Her fingers twitched, and she sat on her hands to keep from reaching for him in front of everyone. Not that she cared about what they thought. Prowl could keep staring at her and judging her. Jolt could keep studying them all. She'd had far worse attention put on her than that. They weren't the problem.

The problem was that her spark was still acting funny, and she had no idea of how to calm it down. The other problem was that this was the longest she'd gone without having some sort of contact with the mech since she met him, and it was driving her insane.

Jinx didn't understand why. Backlash was a bigger mess than she was. She'd seen it first hand, in his optics and in his frame. She'd heard the brokenness in his voice. He was such a shattered, cautious mech, and he was as distant and cold as the moon.

Why did he save her?

Why did he protect her?

Was it because she had gone back for him and he felt like he owed her for it? Was it because he was finally starting to trust her? And why the pit did she care? She was a thief. He was a warrior. Warriors and thieves didn't usually coexist well. Especially after the thief had spent several days trying to sneak attack the warrior.

She was Jinx. She needed no one, she never had. She was strong and smart enough to pull herself out of just about anything. So why in Primus' name was her spark reeling because one mech had protected her?

_No mech has ever protected you before, _A thought whispered, _no mech has ever even cared. _

_ Then why does he? _Jinx frowned, squinting at the mech like staring at him would solve every problem in the universe. Again, she found herself looking at his scars. She counted them in her head, thinking of the stories Backlash had told her about them while they were still in her ship. The mech was hardly older than she was, and he was a veteran. He'd seen just about every kind of wound, and lived through the final battle of a war that had lasted for ages and destroyed entire planets. It had all taken its toll on him.

_Lotus. _

Jinx clenched her jaw. She'd thought about his mystery-friend ever since he'd given up her name. Lotus meant something to him. Whoever she was, she must have been a great friend before she turned on him...which brought her to another question she'd been trying to answer. Backlash made it sound like they were close. What could have possibly turned the femme against him? He'd said that she had no choice, but Jinx found it hard to believe. She came up with a hundred different stories, a hundred different reasons why the she turned.

"Keep staring and you'll burn holes through him," A voice said almost bitterly, cutting through her thoughts.

Jinx looked at Flashback, narrowing her yellow optics. He was glaring at her like she was his greatest enemy. "Calm down, blimp. I'd rather stare at him than you."

His optics narrowed into slits. An entire sentence of curses left his mouth before Prowl snapped, "Enough!"

Jinx rolled her optics, then shifted her attention back to Backlash. He was more aware now, his optics in her general direction. She asked, voice softening, "How are you feeling?"

Flashback looked back and forth between them. If he was an animal, his nostrils would be flared and the whites of his eyes would be showing. The mental image made her grin, but all of her attention was back on the younger brother when he answered just as quietly, "Better. Most of the pain has gone."

"What about your optics?" She pushed.

"We will deal with his sight when we are back on earth," Ratchet said, eying Backlash carefully, "I won't chance damaging something inside his processor in a dark, foreign ship."

Jinx nodded.

"How did you survive the explosion?" Prowl asked, turning his attention back to monitoring the vessel as it crossed space.

"Backlash whipped out his big fancy shield," Jinx chirped, "saved both our afts."

"Is that why you helped him?" Jolt was seated next to Ratchet, bright blue optics on Jinx. His gaze was calm, reminding her suddenly of Backlash. Jinx faced him, optic ridges raising. She thought for a moment, studying the mech.

The mech looked at her differently than the others. He wasn't scowling like his older son, or judging like Prowl. Even Ratchet had regarded her with a sense of caution. Jolt only looked at her curiously, as if he was trying to figure her out. Jinx didn't know why. He was an autobot, and she had pestered them as much as she had the decepticons. He should be looking at her like Prowl, judging and waiting. Jinx realized that _this _was one of the things that bothered her most. This mech looked as though he saw something good in her when everyone else saw bad.

Jinx shifted again. She said, "I went back for him because he let me stay on his ship for so long and kept me fed." _And because he came back for me, _she added silently. Again, she looked at the mech. It was almost uncontrollable now, and she wondered if he knew what he was doing to her.

His soft red optics were still on her, a slight frown on his face. Like he could sense her looking at him, he said, "If you were so thankful for the hospitality, why did you try to attack me so many times?"

"Oh, you know me," Jinx said with a quiet vent, "just can't stay out of trouble, and it was almost fun. You're a challenge, mech."

His optics narrowed slightly at that. He was thinking again, probably working through her words very carefully.

"She attacked you for the shield?" Jolt was looking at Backlash now. He wasn't angry like Flashback was. He wasn't angry at all. Jinx wasn't sure what to think of that.

"Several times." Backlash nodded, "she was intent on it."

"Not that it mattered," Jinx rolled her optics. "He put me on the floor every time. I couldn't even touch him." Not entirely true, but his family didn't need to know about her little plan to 'molest' him into submission. She squeezed her fingers into fists when she thought of the way his armor felt, cold and sharp and rough and smooth and dusty and jagged all at once. Jinx ground her dentals. She wasn't supposed to remember things like that. She was supposed to remember how lethal he was, strong enough to lift her off the floor with one hand and as silent and liquid smooth as the shadows on the moon. His armor, the shine dulled beneath the heavy scarring and moon dust, was dull, perfect for blending. He was the fastest mech she'd ever met, and the most closed-off.

That was also a dangerous quality he had. The mask he wore was almost impossible to crack, and she'd only managed it once or twice. She immediately thought of when she had given his tech back after pinning him for a hug. The way his expression shifted from cold indifference to complete, almost innocent confusion. The way he'd looked at her like that, disbelief outweighing his caution. Then there was the time spent inside her ship, when she had taken his hand and showed him all of her old scars. Every story she told him seemed to gain a response, like hearing about all of her nightmares really affected him...

The way he'd said her name when he was trying to keep her from pushing Flashback too far.

Venting deeply in irritation, she looked away from the mechs. _Pits, _she thought, _I've got it bad._

* * *

Backlash's optics shifted in the direction of the femme when he sensed her shift across the vessel. He considered asking her what was wrong, since this was the tenth time she'd readjusted herself in the last four minutes. He couldn't tell if she was nervous about the autobots or just uncomfortable. She didn't seem like the type to be nervous around others. She certainly wasn't nervous around him.

Backlash was pulled out of his thoughts when he felt his brother prodding at his spark through their sibling bond. He was checking on him again. Backlash pushed back in response, then shifted his attention to his father when he said, "You're mother will want to see you first thing when we land."

"Yeah," Flashback snorted, "she was freaking the pit out."

"That doesn't surprise me," Backlash said.

"Sister is worried, too. Grimlock won't let her leave their base though."

Backlash vented softly. "Something tells me that won't end well for Grimlock."

Flashback laughed. "It usually doesn't."

"Grimlock?" Jinx piped up from her corner of the ship. "Like, dinobot 'I'll bleed you dry and swallow you whole' Grimlock?"

"The only one there is," His father said almost bitterly.

"The dinobots are on earth?"

"Yep," Flashback said, "be nice or I'll feed you to them."

"Thats enough," Ratchet said, "If you two are going to keep going at each others throats like this, we'll jettison both your afts here."

Flashback grumbled but didn't speak up again. Jinx was quiet for a whole three seconds before whistling, "Pits, Ratch, you are _cranky."_

Backlash vented inaudibly.

Several hours passed before the vessel began to shudder and shake violently, alerting them that they had entered Earth's atmosphere. Jinx yelped across from him. Backlash heard her stumble then hit the floor. Her armor scraped when the ship tilted, and suddenly she was slamming into his legs. Backlash's intakes sharpened as pain shot through his leg. Flashback jumped beside him, "HEY!"

Jinx was already trying to push herself back though, hands on his shin, "I'm sorry!" Her voice was strained with panic and embarrassment. "I just-I couldn't-"

Backlash clenched his jaw and leaned down to offer her his arm. She took it immediately, huffing, "Pits, I'm sorry."

"Its alright," Backlash bit out. He pushed at his brother's end of their sibling bond and the older mech reluctantly scooted over enough to make room for her. "Just sit and stop talking."

She sat down, shifting uncomfortably. The ship righted itself, then turned the other way. He felt her hands snag on his side armor to keep from hitting Flashback. Backlash tensed when she wiggled closer, slipping an arm behind his back to keep herself anchored to his side. "_Pits!_" She exclaimed, "why aren't _you _sliding all over the place?!"

"We weigh more," Backlash answered simply, tension creeping into his voice when she nearly crawled into his lap, "Is this really necessary-"

"Yes!" Jinx snapped, "its necessary! Unless you want me to just _roll _all over this stupid ship!"

"Find a corner to sit in," Backlash instructed. He almost pushed her away, but stopped when he realized that she'd just come back. Her fingers dug into the ridges of his old scars. He forced down a sharp vent of irritation, "_Femme._"

"What!"

"Relax," Ratchet said, sounding amused. Backlash ground his dentals when the medic added, "it will be over soon."

"Pits, you're about ready to crawl into his fragging armor," Flashback muttered.

"You would be too," Jinx defended. Backlash went rigid when her other hand clawed at his stomach plating, trying his hardest not to react to her. He focused on her voice instead, hearing an edge of fear in her tone that hadn't been there before. His processor worked to analyze the shift in her behavior. She had flown her own ship, she had to know how rough a landing could be. Why was she so afraid? Did this remind her of one of her captures?

Backlash allowed her to cling to him. His spark shifted oddly when he thought of their time on her ship, when she had taken his hand and shown him her scars. What ones had she taken in a vessel like this, surrounded by mechs? "Breathe," He told her, "calm down."

He turned his head slightly in his brother's direction when he felt a curious prod from him. _'Whats going on?' _Flashback asked, _'why is she touching you?'_

_ 'Because shes afraid,' _Backlash dead panned.

_'Why are you letting her touch you?'_

Backlash paused. Another harsh jolt from the ship and Jinx crammed herself under his arm, completely oblivious or not caring about the others that were watching. His brother's words echoed in his processor, and he asked himself the same thing. Then another question formed, pushing the first from his thoughts.

Why was she seeking safety from _him?_

She had been up his aft for the past week now, but there was a purpose behind it. There must have been a purpose for saving him and taking him back to her ship, as well. But what could possible work in her favor here? He was exhausted and damaged, but his family and the autobots were watching her. He knew it. Then again...if she was still about getting the shield, wouldn't she have taken it when he was in stasis? What purpose was behind taking time to learn his scars, then guiding him to hers?

_Primus. _Backlash didn't answer his brother. Hope was still in his spark, as much as he didn't like it, and it pulsed and hurt and moved like a living thing within him. He hated the feeling, hated the way how it burned and made him feel something other than the numbness that had been within him for so long. The way how it made old memories rise up and made him think and wonder about a different life.

_"When was the last time you were happy?"_ She'd asked him days ago. For the longest time, he hadn't even let himself think about it. Not until her.

"Are we there yet?" Jinx groaned, "I think I'm getting sick-"

Flashback shot to his feet noisily and darted across the ship, "Hey! Don't you dare yak in this-"

"I feel it coming up," She said, teasing now. Backlash could hear the change in her voice, so he didn't shift to move away when she heaved her body forward like she was going to spew up a gut-full of energon. Flashback stuttered in the farthest corner from them.

"I'll weld your freaking mouth shut!" He threatened.

Jinx shook with laughter, then jumped back to Backlash when the ship jerked again. Backlash hardly thought about the contact this time, so lost in his struggle to understand what was happening to him.

His mother and Hotshot were there when they landed on earth.

Jinx helped him out this time because she was closer, seeming much calmer now that they were on solid ground. Flashback wasn't too happy about it, and he hovered close by.

Backlash felt his mother pulling on his spark as she approached him. Her hands landed on his face, tilting it to look at the damage on his cheek plates. Jinx stepped back and moved to stand behind him so she wasn't in the way. Backlash tensed slightly, some part of him still expecting to be attacked. She didn't, resting a hand against his back instead so he knew where she was.

Backlash focused on his femme creator when she said, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you in pain?"

"Not much." Backlash answered, "father and Ratchet repaired what they could on the moon."

She vented quietly, "Good. If you ever do this to me again, you're grounded to Gears' garage for the rest of your existence, do you understand?"

Backlash let her into his spark when she pushed at him. She embraced him, sending him feelings of love and strength and worry and relief. "Yes, mother," He said quietly.

There was a pause, then she said, "You must be Jinx."

"Yep," Jinx chimed from behind him. He felt her lean around his side, "And you are Backlash's creator...?"

"My designation is Demona."

"Pits, now _you_ I believe. But this guy," Jinx shifted, most likely motioning at his mech creator, "I just can't see any of him in Backlash."

There was a note of quiet amusement in his femme creator's voice, "Backlash takes after his decepticon heritage. He resembles his ancestors more than anyone." She moved away, walking around him to address his father.

"Pits," Jinx whispered behind him, "She looks like a femme version of Megatron. No wonder you came out all pointy and dark looking."

_Well, you're not wrong, _Backlash thought. He focused on Hotshot when the mech spoke up, "Backlash! Long time no see, mech."

"Its been a while," Backlash said, shifting his optics to the direction the mech's voice was coming from. Hotshot's voice grew clearer as he came closer.

"I heard you got into some trouble these past few days."

"More than usual."

"You look pretty banged up, are you alright?"

"I'll survive," Backlash tensed slightly when Jinx came back to his side, slipping beneath his arm.

"Hey," Backlash imagined Hotshot pointing as he spoke, "you're the femme that contacted us. Jinx, was it?"

"Thats me."

* * *

Jinx couldn't make herself stop staring at Demona.

The femme was completely out of place among the bright colored, stream-lined autobots. Her armor was jagged and menacing, rose red in color and spider-webbed with all sorts of scars. They weren't as deep or painful looking as Backlash's, but Jinx somehow knew that they had come from injuries that were just as bad. The femme had the same predatory look, the same silent motion though hers was slightly hitched from old injuries. Jinx wondered how many battles she'd fought in the war before it ended.

Backlash had his mother's optics. The same color, the same gentle shape. When Demona looked at Jinx, she saw Backlash...and Megatron. Jinx had never seen the mech but she'd seen holograms and images of him, and he was the second thing she thought of when Demona approached.

Jinx's optics searched for a faction badge, processor racing to take in all of this. Was she a neutral, like Backlash? She couldn't imagine the autobots being so relaxed in the company of a decepticon. Jinx was surprised to see that the femme was an autobot, bearing the badge on the crest of her helm between her horns.

Looking back at Backlash, Jinx wondered why _he _wasn't wearing the autobot mark. It seemed as though he was closer to being one of them than a decepticon, and he obviously had friends and family here. Why did he remain a neutral, isolated on the moon and far away from everyone else?

After getting over the initial shock of seeing Demona, Jinx had focused all over her attention back on Backlash...until the yellow autobot that had been waiting for them walked up. He greeted Backlash like they were good friends, and casually asked how he was feeling.

Jinx stayed hidden behind the taller mech until she was noticed, then moved back to his side. Backlash didn't tense like before, accepting her presence as much as a he could stand. Jinx blinked at him as the two mechs spoke. She'd been expecting him to push her away in the presence of his friends. Instead, he was just ignoring her. She didn't know whether to be happy because he was pinning her for pestering him in front of his friends or irritated because he was _still _ignoring her.

"Hey," The yellow autobot said, "you're the femme that contacted us. Jinx, right?"

"Thats me," She peeked around Backlash again. He was eyeing her curiously.

"I'm Hotshot," He continued, "I heard you have quite a reputation."

Jinx grinned at that, "Do I really? Its about time. I've been working on it for _years._"

He smiled back, "I'm not so sure if thats a good thing or not. You're not going to steal anything from me, are you?"

"Depends," Jinx looked him up and down, "you got anything worth stealing?" Her grin turned wicked when she thought of something. Backlash was being too quiet, too indifferent. She needed to change that. Her hand crept down his back like a spider, then abruptly grabbed his aft. She almost laughed when Backlash stiffened, saying instead, "_Backlash_ does."

Hotshot looked at them carefully, optics wide with confusion. "You alright, mech?"

"Fine," Backlash managed tonelessly. Jinx frowned when his expression smoothed out. _Pits, _the mech was stubborn. She'd have to try harder. Bracing herself for a possible attack, she moved closer and looped an arm around his waist. Her other hand stroked down his side plating.

Hotshot's optics got _round. _Backlash vented sharply and finally shifted to shove her back. Jinx laughed, slinging both arms around him and locking her hands together. Backlash grasped one of her arms firmly and was trying to pull it back when Hotshot asked, voice on the verge of being hysterical, "Are you two...?"

"Are we what?" Jinx purred, raising her optic ridges at him, "together?"

"No," Backlash growled, "there is absolutely _nothing-_"

A sinister idea struck her then. Grinning so wide her face hurt, she rested her head on his chest and said, "Thats not what you said last night, lover-boy."

Jinx could have offlined happy right there. Hotshot looked like he was about to glitch, trying his hardest to process what he was seeing. Backlash became still, body drawn so tight it looked painful. She could feel his armor warming against her. She didn't know if it was from embarrassment or rage, but she didn't care. Looking up, she saw this choked-up look on his face, like he genuinely didn't _know _how to react.

It was the proudest moment of Jinx's existence. She finally had the mech, finally shocked him so much that he couldn't function enough to respond. It was beautiful. Jinx snickered when he stiffly stepped away. She let him go, crossing her arms and lifting her chin in triumph.

"What the frag is going on over here?" Flashback said, stalking towards them. He stopped when he saw the mechs' expressions. When neither of them responded, he turned on Jinx with a glare, "What did you do?!"

"Nothing," Jinx said innocently. She showed him her sweetest smile.

Flashback huffed, pushing past her to go to his brother. Jinx hung back as he guided the younger mech forward. Her optics brightened when a ground bridge yawned open before them. The autobots started towards it, hurrying Backlash so they could get him to the med bay. Jinx hesitated, knowing instinctively that the autobot base lay on the other side. It would be full of mechs and femmes she'd stolen from, full of 'bots that probably still wanted to beat her into the ground.

Her grin died. The feeling of triumph faded into a sort of cold numbness as she made herself move forward. Whatever waited for her on the other side couldn't be near as bad as what Lockdown would do to her once he realized she didn't have the shield.

Her optics fell on Backlash. She forced herself to count his scars to keep calm as she stepped inside.

* * *

**Kinda blew through the editing process on this one so its probably messy. I'll go back and clean it up when I have more time. **

**Jinx...bahaha. **

**Thank you for reading and *hopefully* reviewing! Much love to you all. **

**Backlash and his family, Jinx, and the story belongs to me. Transformers does not.**


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